Dreamcatcher
by Kirsty Welsh
Summary: An operating room, a madman, a missing brunet, a worried blond. A dark story of pride and a madman's search for immortality. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Metal on metal, or maybe drinks glasses clinking together. No, that was altogether too merry a sort of sound to describe that which David Starsky strained his ears to hear. No chinking of champagne glasses; no raucous laughter at a bar. This was more of a muted, harder sound.

Definitely metal being dropped onto other metal.

Cold.

Hard.

Terrifying.

In his darkness, the curly haired cop struggled to sit up for the fourth or fifth time and again encountered the bindings anchoring his wrists, ankles and chest to the table or bed that he was lying upon. Whatever it was, it wasn't soft and it wasn't particularly warm.

Was it hours or days ago when he'd first woken up? The passage of time escaped him. Only his breathing and the rapid staccato beats of his heart gave him any inkling as to the time that flowed past him like a river in full flood. That and the cool breeze that sometimes drifted across his body.

He was naked.

Make that cold, hard, terrifying and vulnerable.

There was something about being divested of his clothes without his prior knowledge that Starsky found the most frightening of all. Even tied down to a table and blindfolded, he would have felt a small measure of safety if he'd had his worn, comfortable jeans on and maybe his trademark Adidas. Of course he wouldn't have objected if Sofia, his latest girl had done this to him. Then it would have been erotic, sexy and very special. But this was no pillow game and he didn't feel in the least bit like making out. To have been taken by an unknown and to have been drugged to wake with nothing to cover his body, with his arms pulled out to the sides and his legs wedged apart left him feeling as though his very skin had been peeled from his body leaving him wide open for anyone or anything to take advantage of him.

Starsky tried to clear his drug befuddled mind to remember exactly what had happened to him to get him into this mess. His head felt as though it were filled with cotton wool. His eyes quested blindly through the blindfold to try and focus on the thin sliver of light between the bottom of the cloth and his skin but still the drug he'd been given dulled his senses and slowed his wits.

Remember.

What?

_Ok, think Davey, think!_

He'd had a day running the streets with Hutch. It was much like any other sort of day, much like all the others in the seven years he'd been partnered with the tall handsome blond. He drove while Hutch sat at his side, one elbow resting on the sill of the open window as the hot Californian breeze ruffled chocolate curls and flaxen bangs.

It had been a hot one, the fiery blasts from the Santa Annas inflaming tempers and leaving sweat patches below armpits and in a long line down backs. By 5:00, they'd had enough. All that was required now was a cold beer at Huggy's, a swim down at the beach and a cold shower before bed.

He'd driven Hutch over to the Pits and they'd enjoyed the drink, but Hutch's girl had telephoned and the big blond had smiled apologetically, shrugged his shoulders and said the swim was off.

'You mean you prefer pretty blonds with nice assets in your hot, airless apartment to a swim in the cool ocean with your best buddy?' Starsky had asked with a wink.

Hutch had sighed. 'When you put it like that….. but I really don't mind taking one for the team. See ya in the morning, bright and early.'

The brunet had watched his partner hurry off to the latest love of his life had finished his drink and had stayed talking to Huggy for a while. The bar was almost deserted. Inner city bars did not do well in the hot, airless summers. Most drinkers wanted either the breeze of the ocean or the romance of drinks by the soft sand beneath a full moon. Whatever the reason, by midnight, the lanky black bartender had had enough and decided to close up.

After a final goodnight drink, Starsky had made his way back to his apartment on Ridgeway. He'd pulled the car to a halt under the shelter of the big tree, had walked slowly up the steps to his front door, opened it and……nothing. He knew little more other than a hand with a rag smelling of chloroform being pushed roughly over his mouth and nose. He'd struggled but of course the struggles increased his breathing and the drug took almost immediate effect. Starsky remembered falling heavily to the floor, taking a deep breath of pure, sweet warm air and then he had felt a bee sting of a needle in the crook of his elbow and a voice above him hissed

'You're no stranger to this, are you? Sleep well…..while you can.'

After that, the brunet's next recollection was of semi waking in the room he now occupied. He had felt, rather than seen someone moving around and then his blindfold was lifted and a bright light pierced his eyes. The cloth was replaced and the body moved away.

'Heeyyyyyy' Starsky had mumbled drunkenly. 'Heyy, hellpppppp me.' There was another bee sting and once again, he was plunged into darkness and the deep pit of a drugged sleep.

He'd woken once or twice since then. Each time, he felt the effects of the drug on his system and each time he tried to fight it with every ounce of his being. But each time he heard the person (persons?) moving in the room he was once again injected with the sedative.

This time, he feigned sleep, trying to keep his body still and his breathing deep and even. This time he was going to find out what was going on.

There was the sound of small wheels on a hard floor and the sounds echoed from the walls making Starsky feel that this wasn't a living room or a bedroom. The wheels stopped and there was a small metallic clatter close to his left hand side. Despite his best endeavours, the cop shivered in the cool air and jumped slightly at the noise.

'I knew you weren't asleep' the man's voice said close to his left ear. The voice was no more than a whisper, hissing against his cheek and Starsky had no chance to decipher whether he knew it or not. Instead he turned his head sideways towards the hot breath.

'Let me up' he rasped. 'I'm a cop. Kidnapping a cop is a federal offence. Let me go now and we can talk.'

'I don't want to talk Davey. I don't want you to talk either.'

'Not gonna stop me. You need to tell me what's goin' on' the brunet said, pulling at his wrist bindings again. 'Let me up……c'mon man. We can work this out huh?'

The blindfold was suddenly ripped from Starsky's eyes, causing a yelp of surprise from the brunet. He clamped his mouth shut, blinked, tried to shake his head and then squinted up at the bright light shining down from above him. He'd seen lights like that before – blinding white lights that illuminated his body perfectly. C'mon brain, think. He'd seen lights like that in…..in…..shit…..an operating room!

The realisation made the cop start to struggle again. The cold hard surface on which he lay now made sense and cause ripples of fear to course through his body. He ripped at the restraints around his wrists and ankles and flung himself against the chest strap. 'What the fuck are ya doin'?' he yelled, trying to keep the edge of panic from his voice. 'You're crazy……lemme up……lemme go……'

The man at the head of the table tutted. He was swathed in OR greens and had his hair covered by a green hat. The lower half of his face was similarly covered by a mask, leaving only glinting steel grey eyes showing above. There was no humour in the eyes, just cold intent and the absence of any other discernable feature made Starsky feel like he was in some kind of horror movie. The green swathed figure advanced on him.

'I told you I needed you to shut up. Now I'm going to have to take action' the rasping hissing voice said. The trolley, also swathed in green was pulled closer and Starsky had a glimpse of bright steel instruments on it. His panic rose like a tide in his chest.

'No, no don't do that. We can talk….I mean, I won't talk if ya don't want. I…I…..what the…..fuck, no!'

'Don't struggle Davey, it'll be more uncomfortable if you fight it.' The man in the green clothes grasped Starsky's head in two strong hands and forced it down onto the cold operating table, adjusting a strap to go across the brunet's forehead so that his neck was stretched back, taut, vulnerable and immobile.

Starsky licked lips gone dry. This was too much! He was transfixed, every part of him held down, pressed against the cool metal of the operating table like a butterfly pinned on an exhibition card. He'd had enough injuries in the past to recognise it now – the cold hard operating table and the smell of antiseptic and the fear that had bubbled under the surface burst from him in a huge tide of emotion. Starsky was no longer a brave, streetwise cop. He felt like a piece of meat on a butcher's slab, or a beast waiting patiently for its own slaughter.

'What're ya gonna do?' he asked a little too loudly, unable to completely hide the fear in his voice.

'Keep you quiet and docile for a change. Relax, think of it as an enforced rest. Any last words Davey?'

'You gonna kill me? Why?'

The man's forehead wrinkled in consternation. 'Of course I'm not going to kill you, silly boy. You were always the slow one, weren't you? Always the one leaping to the wrong conclusions. You never did know when to keep your mouth shut. I'm gonna teach you a lesson. I'm going to keep you quiet for a while.'

For an instant, Starsky wondered – "always the slow one?". Did he know this man? Which of the many flakes he and Hutch had pissed off over the years was this? Which one would have the access to an OR? Matwick? Didn't look like Matwick and in any event, the mad doctor was still in Folsom serving his time.

Anger began to overwrite the fear.

'Fuck you' the brunet snarled. 'Whatever happens, my partner will find me.'

The man above him rumpled the creases of his mask with a smile. 'I don't think so. Ken will have no idea where you are. As Dorothy would say, "this isn't Kansas Toto". Now be a good boy and open your mouth for me hmm?'

Starsky clammed his mouth closed, his eyes catching sight of a bright silvery instrument in the man's hand. It was curved like a blade, but round and blunt and the man held it on one hand while he used his other to apply pressure to a point just behind the brunet's jaw. The pain was immediate and despite his best attempts, Starsky's jaw relaxed, allowing the man to insert the laryngoscope between his teeth and aim it at the back of the brunet's taut, stretched neck.

'Relax, or it will be even more unpleasant' the man hissed as the instrument touched the back of the cop's throat. It was only then that Starsky realised the man's intentions. He struggled all the more, his mind screaming silently. _NOOOOO. Don't stick that hose down my throat. I'm awake for Gods sake!_

That was exactly what the man was going to do, however and despite his eyes tearing and his gagging mercilessly, Starsky felt the smooth metal slide over the back of his throat to be joined by a hose that bruised his throat and invaded his trachea. Starsky wanted so badly to cough it out, but while his eyes stared pleadingly at his antagonist, the man took a length of bandage and tied the tube in place. The cop's throat tried to close around the invading tube and the saliva seemed to pool in his mouth with nowhere to go. He felt as though he were choking and his hands clawed into fists against the cold metal table as he fought the sensation, sucking air in through the tube and out through flared nostrils.

'Don't fight it Davey. In a day or so, your body will become used to it. Besides, after I've prepared you, you're gonna need some help with the breathing…..and feeding……and just about everything else come to think of it. Now, lie still while I make the next adjustment.'

Starsky hardly heard the words. The terrible feeling of the tube in his throat occupied all his thoughts, but he watched in growing horror as the man came at him again, this time with a smaller, more flexible tube. Once again, the bound cop felt a tube invade his body, this time snaking up his nose and down the back of his throat to rub against the other hose. Too much - this was far too much, so much more than he thought his body should be able to bear and yet the tube continued to invade him. It continued its way down into his stomach as the brunet fought to breath around it. The breath whistled through the hose in his lungs and the man above him sighed. Starsky tried in vain to cry out, or to make any sort of sound, but the tube in his throat effectively silenced him and only a fierce exhalation through the tube in his larynx marked his efforts.

'See? It's so much better when you're quiet. I can see we're going to get on so much better now. Only a few more adjustments to make now and then you'll be ready.'

'_Ready? Ready for what?' _Starsky's mind screamed at him. '_Don't panic Starsk, don't panic. Hutch will find ya. Hutch will….Oh dear God what's he doin' now?'_

The man's hands were now at the centre of Starsky's body. Rubber gloved hands took a hold of his penis but this was no sexual assault. Instead, a third intruder touched the head of his manhood and pressed it's way inside, the sensation burning as the catheter pushed it's way deep inside the brunet's body to seat at the entrance to his bladder. A moment later, he felt the hands leave him and move away. He felt a weight pulling his cock to one side as a bag was attached and fixed to the side of the table.

_Don't panic Davey…don't panic….don't…._

The man returned for a final time. 'You're all ready now Davey. Now I can look after you properly. What does it feel like to be completely reliant on me for everything?' A swab wiped away the beads of perspiration from his forehead for a moment and the man bent down. 'You're gonna take a little trip inside your own mind now. I'm going to give you a shot. It will paralyse your voluntary muscles, so I need to hook you up to a breathing machine. I'll take care of feeding you and making sure you're ok, but don't worry, you'll know that. You won't be able to move, but you'll be awake. Trapped in your own mind, alone with your thoughts – I hope they're good ones. Say goodnight Davey. The lights are about to go out.'

Starsky made one final attempt to lever himself from the table as the man hooked up the hose in his throat to a machine. A moment later he felt air being pumped into his lungs against his will. He choked, his body stiffening against the force, but then a needle found its way into his arm, attached to a bag of some pink fluid hung above him and a moment later, the brunet felt his body become heavy, his lungs stopped working and his limbs felt detached but his eyes remained open and try as he might, he had no power in his muscles to close them. Starsky panicked, his sight fixed on the bright light above him. He couldn't even close his own damned eyes! A moment later, the man closed the lids for him and the brunet felt something cold being placed over then and taped down.

Darkness. His eyes relaxed and yet the darkness scared him. His senses were being taken from him one at a time and still the hose felt as though it would choke him at any moment, his lungs inflating and deflating with maddening slowness. Starsky felt as though his body were starved of oxygen, as though he had run a marathon and couldn't get his breath, and yet he was at the mercy of the machine and its slow, steady rhythm.

The man bent down close to his head. He could feel the breath on the side of his face.

'Alone with your memories now Davey. I want you to remember. Think of Hutch. Ken can't save you now. He doesn't know you're missing and he has no idea where to find you. Think of that. Think of Hutch while you remain awake.'

Starsky longed to issue a retort. His defence in life had been his wisecracks. They cushioned his true feelings and bolstered his confidence, but the power of speech had been taken from him.

His sight had been robbed too.

Something was stuffed into his ears deafening him and now, for the first time in his life, David Starsky had no senses left under his own control. He was completely isolated from the outside world and alone, to contemplate his fate, his only escape being his dreams and his memories.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Hutch walked into the squad room at 10:05 on that Tuesday morning. To say he was fuming would have been an understatement and the men who were still in the room doing paperwork kept their heads down. Hutch was known to be the more mild mannered of the Starsky/Hutch partnership. His temper was slow to ignite, but once lit, it flared into ugly life and those around him knew to keep their distance.

As the blond looked around the room he sighed heavily. 'Anyone seen Starsk?' he asked to the room in general. There was a silent chorus of shaking heads which led to another, even more gut wrenching sigh. The blond cop stalked stiff backed to his desk, but couldn't avoid walking past the open door to Dobey's office.

'Hutchinson!' the Captain's deep voice bellowed from his inner sanctum.

'Just getting' a coffee Cap' Hutch called back, stalling the evil moment.

'You got time enough to poison your system after you explain to me why you're an hour late for your shift' Dobey yelled. 'Get in here now.'

With a shrug of his shoulders, Hutch put the empty coffee mug back on the ledge by the percolator and walked into the lion's den.

'I um….had a dentist appointment?' he offered.

'Uh uh. That was last week. As was the doctors, the florist to buy flowers for your sick Aunt and the vets to take your neighbour's budgie. I want the truth. Where've you been and where's your partner?'

'Well now, that's the hundred thousand dollar question Cap'n. I don't know where Starsky is. That's why I'm late. I've been sat outside his house for the past hour tryin' to get him to wake up. Thing is his door is locked and I can't find the spare key.'

'You mean he's holed up with a girl again?' Dobey's eyebrows shot skywards.

'I don't think so. I called Sofia, but she was home. She hasn't seen him for a couple of days. I thought maybe he'd come into work early.'

'When was the last time Starsky came into work early. He's been late almost every day of his working life!'

'There's a first time for everything' Hutch observed, his anger now dissipating to be replaced with a small undercurrent of worry.

Dobey made a small growling noise in his throat. It was usually the sign that he was about to explode and the blond tried to head him off at the pass. 'Maybe he's sick. I aught to go back and check.'

'Did he look sick last night?' the Captain asked, unconvinced.

'Um….well he looked a little off c c colour maybe. Perhaps.' Hutch's stutter appeared and was a dead giveaway that the flaxen haired cop was stalling. Dobey growled again.

'Get back to his place and break the door down if you have to. I want you two out on the streets and rolling in one hour. I don't want no more excuses. One hour….. and if it's a minute over I'm gonna dock a days pay for each subsequent hour you're late. Now get goin'.' Dobey took out his large white hanky and patted at his forehead as Hutch made a swift exit from the office. That was it! The last straw. Hutch pushed his way out of the squad room angrily and trotted down the corridor back to his car. Jeez, what the hell was the brunet playing at now? He'd never been one for good time keeping, but this was something altogether new. Was he sick? Had he picked up a girl? Would Huggy know where he was? Maybe he'd stayed in the room above the Pits that night.

Worry and anger now vied with each other as Hutch bowled down the hallways and out to his car.

When he got hold of his partner Starsky was gonna wish he'd never been born.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

That was more or less the feeling that the brunet had right at that minute. Locked into his dark, silent world, Starsky was fighting the panic that ran through his body. It would have shook with fear if he's had any control over his muscles, but as the man had told him, the drug now entering his system from the pink coloured drip hung above his bed paralyzed his body, leaving only the heart muscle capable of movement.

Starsky could do nothing but allow the machine at his side to inflate his lungs and then let out the air with maddening slowness.

Too slow.

He felt as though he were suffocating between each breath.

_Speed up dammit! Can't breath__e. Gonna pass out…. Ok, ok, another breath. C'mon Davey, relax into it. You got no choice buddy, so don't fight it. Take your mind off of it huh? Think. Think of something else. Think of…..Hutch. Hutch will find ya. Hutch'll be lookin' for ya right now. Any minute now he's gonna come through the door and give that slow smile and ask ya what the hell you're doin'._

_Was that a movement? Is the flake still here, watchin' ya? Is he enjoyin' this? Don't give him the satisfaction of…. C'mon machine, another breath, I need oxygen…..c'mon!_

The man watched with satisfaction as a single tear made its way down the side of Starsky's face from out of an eye taped closed. The brunet was still awake and soon he'd come to fully appreciate his predicament. Then would come anger, fear and finally resignation that he was no more than a piece of meat, staked out and unable to resist anything he needed/wanted to do.

With a nod of satisfaction, the man ripped off his surgical mask, the hospital greens and the rubber gloves, stashing them in a bag by the door. He walked quickly out of the operating room and down the hall to his office. Inside the large room, he'd erected a bed and now, weary after his work, the man stretched, lay down on the cot and within seconds had drifted off into a deep, contented sleep. Phase one of his plan had worked like a charm.

Back in the operating room, sleep was the furthest thing from Starsky's mind. His predicament was beginning to dawn on him fully. So far, he'd felt like a voyeur of his own nightmare but now, unable to move, unable to see or hear and with even the power of breathing taken away from him, the panic overwhelmed him and a cold sweat broke out of his naked body.

Inside his mind, he fought against the drug and the bindings he could still feel around his wrists, ankles and chest. Feeling was still there. Cold, stiffness, his limbs heavy and unresponsive. Inside his mind he gave a whimper of fear.

_Hutch!_

_Hutch for Gods sake Pal, if ever there was a time when I needed you it's now. C'mon, come and get me huh? Hurry._

Hutch.

With only his memories and thoughts for company, Starsky's mind began to wander. How long had he known the flaxen haired man? Longer than he'd known most other friends, although friendship was the wrong term to describe their relationship. They were closer than friends, closer than brothers, closer than lovers. Their relationship transcended all those things and in the past, several of the other men they worked with had debated whether in fact Starsky and Hutch were partners in more than the working sense.

They weren't, but it wasn't the first time that that idea had been levelled at them.

That accusation started a long, long time ago, when a young, 16 year old hellcat of a curly haired boy, fresh out of school and looking for his own identity got in with the wrong crowd and went off the rails.

He was living in California, in Bay City with his aunt and uncle. He'd been challenged by his new gang to climb the high bridge over the straights as an initiation and…..

_David stiffened as he heard voices down the hallway__ of the police station. His fall from the bridge hadn't hurt as much as he thought it might. He'd twisted his left ankle and his wrist was swollen but he could twiddle his fingers and he knew nothing was broken – apart from his pride. The voices were getting closer._

'_Al, take it easy. I'm no expert but the kid is hurtin' about something.'_

'_He's gonna be hurtin' a whole lot more when I get my hands on him' Al Fiengold's voice sounded rough with anger and the younger Starsky flinched as the door to the small interview room was flung open. In the doorway, his Uncle stood, hands on hips as he regarded his nephew angrily._

'_Stand up when you see me' Al snapped and David immediately stood up, so suddenly that the chair he'd been sitting on fell over backwards._

'_I'm sorry Sir' he muttered, looking at the ground rather than meeting the anger and disappointment in his Uncle's eyes._

'_Sorry don't cut it Davey. You might be able to get away with your sorry shit in front of your Aunt, but don't try it with me. Now get down that hallway and into the car now before I'm even more embarrassed to call you "family".'_

_David shot out of the room, squeezing past his Uncle and made his way down to the waiting car. He knew what was coming and he flinched at the thought. His Uncle was not a cruel man, but he was a harsh disciplinarian and his motto had always been spare the belt and ruin the boy. The pains in his wrist and ankle paled at the thought of what was to come, but even at 16 years of age, David was too defiant and too proud to beg the older man for a simpler punishment._

_The car journey home was accomplished in silence. Al's hands clutched the steering wheel until they were quite white and his jaw clenched making the muscles in the side of his face tense. Three miles is not a long journey, but to the young boy it seemed an eternity. Finally however, they came to a halt in front of the small neat house and his Uncle ordered him out of the car._

_As Al flung open the front door, Rosey came out of the living room and made to put her arms around her nephew's neck. Roughly, Al pushed her away._

'_Not now woman. That's not what he needs' To David he snapped 'Upstairs to your room now and be ready when I get there.'_

_As David made his way up the stairs, his Aunt was pleading with his Uncle. 'He's hurt Al. Don't do this. He's learned his lesson. He isn't gonna do this again. Petra Zuckerman told me the other boys had been taunting him. He needs me, not that belt. Al….AL!'_

_The elder Feingold however, set his jaw and marched upstairs as Rosey held Nicky close to her chest._

'_Is Uncle Al gonna hurt Davey?' Nicky asked quietly. He'd come to join his brother for the summer vacation and the sight of his Uncle so angry made the boy quail, even at the age of 12._

'_Sssh honey. Go back to your play huh?' Rosey said distractedly and ushered the younger Starsky into the living room._

_Upstairs, David stood waiting for his punishment. "Get ready" meant wait for Al facing the wall with his pants around his ankles and the palms of his hands against the cool plaster. As Al walked into the room, that's exactly how he found his nephew and for a moment, his resolve faltered as he admired the brave way David stood waiting for his fate. There was not a whimper or a plea for forgiveness, just a stoical quiet as Al took off the heavy leather belt and took a step back._

_David closed his eyes. He knew the belt hurt like hell and yet he would not give his Uncle the satisfaction of seeing tears or hearing him scream. As the belt snaked its way through the air and connected with his butt, David dug the tips of his fingers into the wall and bit down on his lip, sucking in air through his nostrils. The second blow seemed to be doubly painful and for a second, David didn't think he'd be able to keep quiet. Pride, however, drove him on and as the third fourth and fifth blows fell, he closed his eyes and bit down so hard on his lip that blood started to flow._

_The sixth blow, however, was misaimed and caught the boy across his flank rather than his butt. The buckle snaked around and the metal gouged a chunk of skin from David's side so that he screamed and dropped to his knees, clutching at the bleeding wound. Behind him, he heard the belt drop to the ground and his Uncle fled from the room. Seconds later, David heard the bathroom door close and Al throwing up into the pan. After that, there was quiet, interspersed with a deep wracking sobbing from the bathroom. David closed his ears and staggered to his feet to lay face down on the bed with the pillow over his head. He had no idea which he found the worst – the pain from the beating or the sounds of his own uncle crying over the pain he'd just inflicted in his nephew._

_Slowly, exhaustion overtook him and he slept, to be wakened around ten o'clock by a sliver of light as the door to his bedroom opened. David stiffened, horrified that his Uncle may be back, but instead a smaller hand tugged the pillow away from his brother's face and Nicky held out a crust of bread and an apple._

'_I brought you some supper' Nicky whispered. Al and Rosey are arguing. Can I sleep with you Davey?'_

_David took the crust and put it down on the bed. With a groan, he shuffled over and made room. 'Sure Nicky. Just don't hurt my back, huh?'_

_Nicky pulled David's tee shirt up and gasped at the black blue and red welts and the crusting of blood on his left hand side. Slowly the 12 year old got off the bed and came back into the room a moment later with a wash cloth soaked in cold water. Gently he laid the cloth on his brother's back and laid his head on the pillow next to David's._

'_I'll look after you Davey' he said quietly and snuggled down against his older brother's warmth._

'_Should be me lookin' after you' David mumbled wearily. We'll be fine Nick…..just fine.'_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

David Starsky continued to dream and to relive his memories. The frightening situation he found himself in made no sense to him. Why would someone want to do this?.....No, scratch that, he knew of countless Bay City flakes who would love to hurt and kill either him or his partner, but not one of them would have access to a room that seemed (from his very small view of it) to be a fully equipped OR. The only person he could think of that had any sort of medical knowledge was Matwick, the insane doctor from Cabrillo State hospital. He'd had enough reason to hate the duo, them having put paid to his "experiments" on the residents of that asylum. But Matwick was firmly behind the bars of a prison facility for the criminally insane across the state, and was likely to remain there for the rest of his natural life.

So if not Matwick, who?

The infuriating slowness of the respirator slowed the brunet's thinking process down. The tube in his throat still left him feeling as though he were choking and the pace of the machine blowing air into his lungs was so slow as to leave him feeling permanently breathless and light headed, as though he'd run down a perp over two miles and then cracked a rib. There was no pain, just the terrible need to breathe faster to get sufficient oxygen into his system.

Panic again rose in Starsky's chest. This was impossible. It was intolerable. How long was this madman going to leave him like this? The brunet tried once again to move. Arms and legs were unresponsive and even if the straps hadn't anchored his head to the table, he doubted the muscles in his neck would have moved any more either.

_Ok, arms and legs too big. Try twitching your fingers Davey. Go for it. C'mon finger….move God dammit!_

Despite using all his willpower and concentration, still, the fibres of his being refused to answer the call to move. David Starsky was trapped in a prison of flesh and blood and at the mercy of a machine to keep him breathing. He'd been this way before unfortunately, on a couple of occasions, but then he'd been injured, most recently from an injection designed to kill him in 24 hours. The final hour, while Hutch had been searching frantically for the antidote had been pure hell. One by one, his bodily systems were shutting down and finally, unable to breathe on his own, the doctor…. Franklin, was that his name?....had told him he was going to be anaesthetised so that they could put him onto a ventilator.

Then, the brunet's fear had been that he wouldn't wake up, but when he finally opened his eyes again two days later, he looked straight up into crystal blue irises the colour of a sunny sky in midwinter.

Hutch.

Hutch had saved him and had got the antidote.

Hutch.

_For God's sake Blondie, make it a double and come get me. Find me Pal, please…..find me?_

Silently Starsky sent out his thoughts to his partner. The other guys in the squad room had always laughed and said they were close enough to be telepathic. Maybe Hutch would somehow sense his thoughts and find him quickly.

_Hurry buddy, don't know how long I can deal with this shit._

_Huuuuuuutch._

In self defence, the brunet's mind closed down for a while, taking the cop away from the intolerable situation and back into his memories, fixing on the last thoughts he'd had.

Hutch. The first time they met.

_David lay on the bed listening to his Aunt and Uncle arguing downstairs. Nicky had fallen asleep next to him and very carefully, so as not to disturb his younger brother, he got off the bed and stood at the partly open door, listening. He could make out raised voices, but nothing more and then the door downstairs opened and a familiar voice shouted hello down the hallway. John Blaine._

_David sighed. John would know what to do. John was younger than Al and Rosey. He'd made a friend of David after the boy was sent to California by his Mom. They went to ball games together. John taught David how to wrestle, how to hit a home run and even how to fire his gun in the safety of a public firing range. Contentedly, David knew John would look after him._

_The big cop's voice could be heard talking for a long time to Al and Rosey. Once or twice, the door to the living room would open and Rosey would go to the kitchen to make coffee. After an hour or so, he heard his Aunt coming up the stairs. David got back onto the bed and as the door to his bedroom opened, he feigned sleep as the older woman came into the room and perched on the edge of his bed._

_Rosey ran her fingers gently through his curls. 'Oh Davey! What're we gonna do with you huh?' she whispered. 'Al didn't mean to hurt you. He was angry. It hurt him almost as much as it hurt you, you know. And now….. I love you boy, you know that don't you? I'll always love you just as much as your Mom does. Remember that….always. Wherever you are, I love you.'_

_Rosey bent down and kissed David gently on his forehead, her lips barely grazing his skin and for an uncomfortable moment, David thought he felt a tear land on his cheek. Was Aunt Rosey crying? Why?_

_Softly, the woman left the room, closing the door behind her and leaving the 16 year old wondering exactly what was going on. He hated upsetting Rosey. She was no substitute for his Mom, but she was a homely, comforting woman, the sort that he could go to when life was rough. She'd sit him down, feed him comfort food and listen. She never made comment, never forced her opinions onto him and never judged him. Instead, she was a rock – someone to whom he could cling when the seas of life became too rough for a 16 year old in a strange town and away from his one surviving parent. He'd have preferred to cut off his left arm rather than upset her._

_Dammit! Damn his stupid pride. Damn him for trying to fit in with the gang from the wrong side of town. Damn him for upsetting Rosey! _

_Gradually__ however, sleep overcame the exhausted boy. David hurt both physically and mentally and finally his body told him enough was enough and he closed his eyes, dreaming of the beach, his bike and the old days in New York, safe in the knowledge that John Blaine would smooth things over with his angry Uncle._

_Early the next morning, David awoke to small noises coming from the cupboard in his room. He sat up stiffly on the bed, grimacing at the pull on the welts across his back and legs and watched as Aunt Rosey came out of the cupboard carrying a pair of his jeans and two tee shirts. She put them quietly into a holdall and looked up sheepishly._

'_Davey! I didn't know you were awake.'_

'_What're ya doin' with my clothes? Are we taking a trip?' he asked her, a feeling of dread inexplicably starting up in the pit of his stomach._

'_Trip? Ah…yes. Yes, you're going on a trip with John. This morning.'_

_David got off the bed and helped his Aunt complete his packing. There were few clothes in the holdall and he looked up questioningly. 'Where are we going? Is Uncle Al still mad? Does the trip have sumthin to do with that?'_

_In answer, Rosey flung her arms around the boy's waist. At 16 he was already head and shoulders taller than the woman and she could feel his muscles through his tee shirt. When he grew fully into a man, she knew he's be strong, brave and if he could keep his temper under control, his dark, Latin good looks would break a girls heart. 'Davey, you know I love you, don't you?' she asked, her voice muffled with her head buried in his chest._

_David cuddled her and planted a kiss on top of her springy curls, uncertain what to say. He hated it when his Aunt got emotional, it made him feel uncomfortable and ill at ease. 'Course I do' he said gruffly. 'Where's John taking me? Not another one of his camping trips, I'd rather have Uncle Al walin' on me with the belt again.'_

_Rosey shook her head and gently pushed herself away from the boy. She dried her eyes and smiled through her tears. 'No Davey. Not a camping trip. Now go downstairs, John's waiting.'_

'_We settin' off so soon?'_

_Rosey looked away, making David feel even more uncertain. 'Uh huh. Go. Don't keep him waiting.'_

_David picked up the holdall. 'See you in a few days then' he said, wondering what all the drama was about, and set off down the stairs. In the hallway, John was talking to Al and he pointed outside as he saw David. 'Wait for me in the car' he said shortly and went back to his conversation._

_David sidled past his uncle. Al refused to look him in the eye and for a moment, vindication blossomed in David's chest. Served his uncle right for hurting him…..although he admitted to himself that he deserved the punishment. As he got to the door, the older man called down the hall to him._

'_Davey! Be good huh? We um…..well, we'll miss you.'_

_As the young boy put his holdall into the trunk and sat waiting in the car, he wondered what all the drama was about. He was only going away for a couple of days, so why the melodrama? If he lived to be 40 he'd never understand older people!_

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Hutch pounded on the door of Starsky's apartment in Ridgeway until his knuckles turned red.

'Starsk? C'mon Starsky, time to get up!' he yelled through the window. The curtains of his buddy's bedroom were closed, as were those in the living room. Considering it was now almost 11:30, the blond was beginning to have an edge of panic to offset the anger he'd felt earlier.

Giving up with the recalcitrant wood of the door, Hutch took two steps back, muttering under his breath. 'You're gonna hate me for this Bud, but I gotta know….' The flaxen haired cop took a step forward and kicked out at the door, aiming for the lock. The wood surrounding it splintered and the door exploded inwards, cannoning off the wall.

Hutch crouched, his gun at the ready as he peered through the door. The place was in darkness, the midday sun fighting valiantly to light up the curtained interior. Cautiously, Hutch walked into his partner's house and looked around. Silently, he opened the curtains, letting the sunlight flood into the room. Somehow, that made it feel less "wrong", although Hutch's partner senses were on full alert, his mind going back to that fateful night after Bellamy's attack. Starsky's whispered 'Utsssch……help' still haunted his dreams and he hoped this would not be a repeat of that scenario.

The blond opened the door to Starsky's bedroom quietly and let out a sigh. The bed was tidy, the covers pulled up and there was no evidence that the brunet had been to sleep in it the previous night. Neither were Starsky's day clothes anywhere to be seen, nor his gun, or holster or cuffs. It was as though the dark haired cop had never made it home and suddenly panic gripped at Hutch's heart. If Starsky hadn't made it home and wasn't with his girl…..

Rushing out from the bedroom, Hutch reached for the telephone and started to systematically call the ERs of the local hospitals, asking if they had had a curly haired man in his late 20s admitted, maybe as a result of a road traffic accident.

A quarter of an hour later, sweating, but relieved to have come up empty at the hospitals, Hutch lowered himself down onto the sofa and put his head in his hands.

'_C'mon Starsk, old man. Where are ya? And why haven't you contacted me?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

'You're covering for him. I know you two. I know how you work. You tell your partner from me I want his ass back in that chair within an hour or you'll be directin' traffic for the rest of your naturals.' Dobey sat back in his chair and stared balefully at Hutch.

'I'm tellin' ya Cap'n. He's missin'. You know me, I'll cover for him if I can, but this time, I'm tellin' you the God's honest truth. I saw him last night at The Pits. Then my girl wanted me home and um…. Well anyway, I asked Huggy and he says the bar was empty by 12 so he and Starsk had one final drink and Huggy locked the place up. Starsky went home on his own and no one's seen him since.'

Dobey's expression shifted from anger to concern. He was dealing with two of Bay City's finest cops. They'd been awarded medals for bravery by the city, they'd had commendations from the police department and they were well liked by their workmates. However, the very qualifications that made them brilliant cops also made them hated by most of the criminal element of the city. Whilst they were known to be fair by their various snitches, for the rapists, murderers and drug runners of the town, Starsky and Hutch's names were mud. Which also meant they were fair game. The episode with Vic Bellamy had illustrated the point perfectly. Starsky hadn't seen it coming and by the time the flake had injected the sedative into Starsky's coffee and watched from the window as the brunet got ever more sleepy and uncoordinated, the curly haired cop was too far gone to fight back as the needle carrying deadly poison penetrated his right arm.

'You contacted the hospitals?' the Captain asked, already knowing the answer.

'First thing I did. No one fitting Starsky's description has been admitted in the past 19 hours. Likewise I contacted the city morgue. Thankfully he aint there either.'

'Then we make a list. All those you've put away in the past…. Let's make it a year to begin with. We can widen the search after that.' Dobey reached for the phone and punched in a number. 'Records? Get O'Malley up here right now, I have a job for him.'

Hutch sat forwards in his seat, running his fingers through his mussed flaxen hair. What now? Which flake had targeted his partner this time? Absently, he massaged his knee, his own legacy of a "fan" who wanted one half of the duo out of the picture. _C'mon Starsk, gimme a sign here babe. Where are ya? _

Hutch jumped slightly as O'Malley, the huge Irishman from records knocked and walked into the room. He smiled coldly at Hutch and stood to rigid attention in front of Dobey's desk. 'You wanted to see me Sir' he said formally.

Dobey looked up at the tower of flesh in front of him. O'Malley had recently joined the department, having completed his training fresh from a five year stint in the Irish Guards back in his home country. He was still very much in the soldier mindset and despite the lack of regard for authority that was engendered amongst Dobey's team, he was still very much "old school". The other men joked that O'Malley probably slept with an iron rod tied to his back to stop him slouching and now, his spine was straight, his shoulders were squared and his eyes were focussed on the wall somewhere above Dobey's head.

'Um…..at ease Sergeant' Dobey muttered. He felt somehow awkward around the big man whose black uniform was perfectly pressed and pulled hard over his huge muscles.

O'Malley promptly placed his hands in the small of his back and parted his feet the regulation 18 inches. His eyes remained fixed on some spot in infinity and he looked far from at ease. Dobey gave up the unequal struggle with O'Malley's manner and got down to business.

'I want you to pull all the records of Sergeants Starsky and Hutchinson's arrests for the past year. I need them on my desk within the hour and I need a man from your staff to help us go through them.'

O'Malley looked unimpressed. 'Shouldn't be a problem Sir. I'll go through the records myself. What am I looking for?'

Hutch cleared his throat. 'Anything unusual. Anything or anyone that points the way to someone who may have taken Sergeant Starsky.'

'Taken?' O'Malley's eyes narrowed and his gaze dropped from the wall behind Dobey's head to fall on the flaxen haired cop.

'You heard. Taken. Sergeant Starsky is officially missing as of this morning.'

'He should be more careful.' The words were out of O'Malley's mouth before he had a chance to stop them.

'Meaning what?' Hutch's nerves, fraying rapidly, snapped at the barbed comment.

'Nothing.'

'Uh uh. You can't make a comment like that and then leave it. If you're gonna volunteer to help me I need to know you're one hundred percent behind us.'

O'Malley met Hutch's steely gaze unflinchingly. 'Are we speaking freely?'

'Always.'

'Then what I mean, Sergeant Hutchinson is that you and your partner are sloppy. You dress like the men you mix with, your techniques are so far from standard procedures as to make a mockery of them and to be honest, I'm amazed neither of you has fallen foul before now.'

Hutch stood up, his eyes blazing as he stood chest to chest with the ex soldier. 'Thanks for your comments, I'll be sure to pass them on when I find my partner, with or without your help. Are we gonna work this, or shall I find someone who is more willing to help a fellow officer rather than comment on his fashion sense?'

For a moment the two men glared at each other. It was Dobey who broke the stalemate. 'That's enough testosterone men. Leave it for outside police time huh? If you can put your petty differences to one side, time is running. Are we gonna find Starsky, or aren't we?'

Hutch and O'Malley both glared one more time and it was the blond detective who stood down first. 'We'll find him' he muttered. 'We'll find him.'

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

The object of the BCPD's worries was now feeling distinctly uncomfortable. The heaviness and unresponsiveness of his limbs was becoming the last thing on his mind as other, more pressing worries began to gnaw at his senses.

However long Starsky had been the victim of this madman, he had no idea. The hose lodged in his throat was a constant and painful reminder of his predicament as was the annoying and slightly less painful tube leading from his right nostril down into his stomach. The man who'd inserted both of the tubes had, once the Ryles tube was in place, taken five minutes or so to push fluids down the clear tube and into the brunet's stomach, making Starsky feel full, bloated and sickened.

Now, the fluid that had passed through his stomach was lodged elsewhere and the catheter leading to the bag hung on the side of the bed was full. The pressure on Starsky's bladder had gone from mild discomfort to a burning need to relieve himself, although with the tube firmly in place, he could do nothing about it. As the minutes ticked by, the feeling passed from burning and bloating to cramp like pains that made him want to draw his knees up to his stomach for relief. In reality, however, although he concentrated on moving his limbs, the nerve impulses were blocked and he could do nothing to ease the knife-like pains in his lower abdomen.

Starsky also had the mother of all headaches. Whatever drug was being fed through the drip in his arm may have paralysed him, but he could still feel sensations throughout his body and the drug in no way took away any of his pain. The brunet tried again and again to make some sort of noise or to move even the tips of his fingers. Trapped as he was within his body, he was a prisoner to his pain and the horror he'd felt when the drug had first taken effect was tripling as time passed by. The pains in his head vied with those in his bladder for supremacy. His head ached with a throbbing, nauseating ache that he would have associated with one of his vicious but mercifully few migraines. Had he had the power of sight, he could imagine his eyes would be blurry, but with the pads keeping his lids closed he had no chance to test his theory.

How long had he been here? How long would he have to wait in his current predicament? Was anyone going to come and find him? Was there anyone there? Even the idea of the man returning filled Starsky with a little hope. It was horrific enough to be paralysed and at the mercy of others for his every need, but to be this way and completely on his own was too much to even contemplate.

Without a carer, would he starve first, or would he succumb to a fever? The machine breathing for him, however slowly, was at least keeping him alive but that in itself was a two edged sword. If he were to starve, would the machine continue to pump oxygen into his system and thus prevent him from dying? Or what would happen if there was a power out? Would he be able to breathe on his own, or would that be the end for him? What if the hose became disconnected from the machine? What if the man decided enough was enough and merely switched the infernal thing off?

The gruesome thoughts spun around and around in Starsky's mind, sparking terrible visions of his body being trapped in a twighlight world between life and death for years, his muscles wasting away until finally the machine developed a fault and he drifted into a lonely and unknown death.

_Shit! C'mon Davey, pull yourself together. You're gonna make it through this. You're gonna survive. Hutch is gonna fin__d ya and then you're gonna put this turkey behind bars for the rest of his natural life! You're gonna….. was that a noise? Did ya hear sumthin? Can you feel……air over your skin…..movement. Crap, is he here again? Can't see. Can't hear. Is he……oh my God what's he doin' now?_

Starsky would have flinched if he'd had the power of movement as the man came back into the OR and stood for a moment looking down at his naked prisoner. The brunet's body was still tied down, anchored to the sides of the operating table by thick, brown leather medical restraints, another strong strap stretching across the cop's chest and laying the springy brown hairs there flat against Starsky's sweating skin. Above, the final transparent strap still held the brunet's forehead down. With a sigh, the man took a step closer.

Restraints were obsolete now. With the drug taking all movement away from the prisoner, the man had little use for the straps any more. They marred the hard, muscled body stretched out before him and jarred at his senses.

The man enjoyed the human form. He'd made it his life's work to examine it – to explore how it worked, how one muscle moved against another and how one bone anchored against another. With this magnificent body laid out before him like an olive tanned smorgasbord he wanted to enjoy it without the frustration of restraints.

First, he released the bag on the end of the catheter. He reattached a fresh, empty one and placed a hand on Starsky's abdomen, pressing down firmly. The brunet felt as though the world were going to emerge from his body through the tiny catheter tube, the pain was so great. He groaned silently before the pressure released and the hands wandered elsewhere. Carefully, the man started to unfasten the straps from Starsky's wrists. The paralysed cop felt the touch of the man's hands on his own and his flesh cringed. What was happening? What was going to happen next? If the straps were being taken away did that mean that he had no hope of being able to move in the near future?

Inside his head David Starsky started to scream. Inside his head, he flung himself against the restraints with all his strength, bursting free of them so that he could land countless punches into the man with no face before finally falling sweating to the ground. On the surface, however, there was no movement and no sound. On the surface, as the man started to unbuckle the strap across the lightly furred chest, the only sign of Starsky's internal struggle was a slight blush of the olive tones skin.

As the brunet continued to struggle mentally against his restraints and his situation, the man took a cool towel and gently wiped the sweat away from Starsky's brow. He smiled sadly. A fever was always the first sign that the drug was working well. Soon, the fever would intensify and so long as this batch of the drug worked properly, there would not be the muscle cracking seizures his other subjects had endured.

Starsky felt the towel wiping at his skin. He felt the man take a hold of his wrist and then there was a sensation close to his ear. The wadding was removed for a moment and the man hissed against his cheek.

'Are you doing alright so far Davey? I told you that one day I would quell your temper for good. This time, your partner has no idea where to look for you. Enjoy your thoughts, there all you have left.'

The wadding was pushed back, deafening him again and Starsky's voice inside his head yelled at the man, but it was to no avail. Once again, the brunet felt a change in the temperature of the air over his body and then he was once again alone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

'Enjoy your thoughts, they're all you have left……enjoy your thoughts…….enjoy…..enjoy.'

The final words of the man rang around and around in Starsky's head as he was once more plunged into his deaf and blind world. What had he meant "I said one day I'd quell your temper?" Which flake had the duo come across in their years together who knew of the brunet's notorious temper?

_Well, when you put it like that Davey, which one of the turkey's doesn't?_

Memories of the brunet's right fist ploughing into the "dumb lookin' one's" stomach outside Sexational films moments before the poison started to work on his stomach….

Thoughts of the IA men, Simmonetti and Dryden with their faces set into knowing smirks as they sent Starsky after his partner to bring him in for murder…..

Two knees coming down on the arm of the turkey who was trying to get to Hutch, pinned under his wrecked car on the mountain road…

Hutch!

No one knew of Starsky's temper better than Hutch. The flaxen haired cop had been on the receiving end of it enough to know that David Starsky was a man easily roused to temper, but the moment that it had flared into furious life, it started to wane just as quickly. The brunet was a passionate man, about women, work and life. He inherited his quick Latin temper along with his smouldering dark looks from his Italian/Polish/God-new-what ancestry and he was the perfect foil to Hutch's cool, smouldering more cerebral character.

What Starsky wouldn't have given at that moment for some of that cool Nordic calm to be poured over his aching, numb and useless body. The brunet could no more become attuned to his predicament than if someone had sawn off both his legs. It was unendurable, unbearable. It was his worst nightmare formed into hideous reality and his only defence mechanism was to turn his mind inwards away from his body and back, towards his thoughts of Hutch and how they'd first met.

_David sat in the car with John Blaine as the tall cop drove away from Al and Rosey's house. David didn't look back. Al was still angry – at himself as much as at David and the youngster couldn't bear the tears in his aunt's eyes. Confusion rose in David's chest. Why were his aunt and uncle getting so upset? Sure, he'd been bad – he admitted that to himself – but John and he were going on a camping trip for a few days, he presumed so that everyone could calm down. What was so upsetting about that?_

'_Where are we going?' David asked as the suburbs swept past the car. They were travelling north and a little inland and it was an area David was not familiar with._

'_Tell me what happened Davey' John answered one question with another._

'_Happened? I fell off the bridge.'_

'_Why were you climbing it to begin with?'_

_David looked out of the window at the passing houses. Why indeed? To impress? To try to be one of the gang? To earn the gang colours so that he could finally fit in with the group he identified with? The Eagles weren't a bad bunch of boys, but with their leather jackets, tight jeans and wild hair, they looked dangerous and had fostered the image to their advantage._

_When David had asked to join them they'd explained there was an initiation ceremony. He was to make love to one of the girls, while the others watched. Failure to rise to the occasion meant a forfeit – to climb the bridge over the straights._

_David had always been brought up to respect girls. In the right circumstances, he would never have flinched from bedding the beautiful Courtney Harris, but he couldn't bear to think about doing it in front of a crowd. Apart from the fact that he wasn't sure if he could perform in front of an audience, he didn't want the girl to debase herself in that way. And so he told the group that love making was for wimps and that he'd prefer a real challenge, which led him to be 30 feet up the bridge despite his vertigo, in the fog and the dark._

_David had impressed the gang, of that, there was no question but when he fell, the gang members fled into the night, leaving him semi conscious on the ground. The rest was history, leading to this car ride._

_Loyal to the last, David would rather have cut out his tongue than squealed on the gang. He kept his face turned away from Blaine. 'I fell off it an' hurt my wrist. Aint that enough punishment? I won't do it again.'_

'_But why did you do it in the first place? Davey, I'm trying to understand' Blaine asked with a note of desperation in his voice._

_David shook his head, his lips clamped tight shut. He would give the gang away, no matter what happened._

'_Davey please. I just want to try to understamd. I know you aren't a bad boy, but climbing that bridge was a criminal act. You have no idea what it cost to speak to the Judge and get him to drop the case.'_

'_You spoke to a Judge about me?'_

'_Would you have preferred that I let you go to jail?'_

'_No, but I didn't know it was so bad. It was only a fuckin' bridge!'_

_John's hand shot out and slapped hard at David's face. 'Don't you use that language with me David Starsky! If you were home right now, Rosey would make you wash out your mouth with Carbolic soap.'_

'_Well I aint home, am I?' David's temper flared again. 'My home is a thousand miles away, but my Mom don't want me and now Rosey and Al are pissed at me. Maybe you should just leave me in the middle of nowhere huh? There's bound to be a Juvi or sumthin around here.'_

_There was a stunned silence in the car and John paled. Heaving a deep sigh, the older man tried again. 'Just tell me what happened Davey. Please…..it doesn't need to go further than the inside of this car, but I need to know. Please, just……gimme the briefest outline so as I can understand.'_

'_There's nuthin to understand. Honest. I did it an' it was wrong so I won't do it again.'_

'_Someone must have made you start to climb' John persisted._

'_No one. I did it on my own' David muttered, his jaw muscles working against his anger and the tinge of fear creeping up his chest._

_Blaine sighed. 'You're so bloody stubborn. Just tell me huh? I'm not gonna judge ya, I just need to know the truth Davey.'_

'_I climbed, I fell and I got caught. Period.'_

_John slapped the steering wheel angrily. 'Fine, if that's how you wanna play it.'_

_David cast a sideways look, wondering why John seemed so on edge. Long minutes of silence passed. 'We still gonna go campin'?'_

_In answer, Blaine held the wheel even more firmly and stared grimly out of the window. The silence was more of a punishment to the 16 year old than any argument or recrimination could be and David shifted uncomfortably in his seat. If they were going to be away for a few days, it was going to get mighty uncomfortable in the tent if Blaine was going to sulk at him. David tried in his own way to make amends._

'_Which camp ground are we going to?' David tried again._

'_We aren't' Blaine answered shortly._

'_We aren't? Aren't we goin' camping? I thought that's what this trip was all about?'_

_Blaine shook his head once and continued to drive. By his side, David looked out of the window. The passing scenery had changed now from the large, expensive houses of the northern suburbs to open fields and grassland and the rising foothills in front of the car._

_As they started to climb up through the winding tree lined roads of the hills the silence in the car became almost unbearable and David tried again._

'_John don't be mad at me.'_

'_I'm not mad Davey, just very disappointed. I thought you were a better person than to do something like this.'_

_For a moment, David's resolve almost snapped. He liked John and the thought of making his friend disappointed in his was almost more than the young boy could bear. For a moment, David wondered how bad it would be to tell Blaine all about the gang and his burning need to fit in somewhere. But then the faces of the gang floated into his memory and again, David felt that this was one way he could prove to them that he could be trusted and would make a good gang member._

'_Don't say that' the boy whispered._

_John drew the car over to the side of the road and parked. Turning in his seat, he rubbed his hands through his hair. 'I need to understand you Davey. I know you aren't a bad boy, son, but what you did was very wrong. All I need you to do is tell me what happened and we can forget the…..we can start over.'_

_David sighed, refusing to meet the pained look in Blaine's eyes. 'I can't tell you. I promised and my Dad always said a promise was a promise. I wish I could, but I aint goin' back on my word.'_

'_Even if keeping quiet makes things tough for you? The Judge told me that if he dropped the case then there would still be consequences.'_

'_Consequences? Like what?'_

_Desperately, John stared at the young boy. 'For God's sake Davey. This is your last chance. Just tell me!'_

'_I can't.' David sighed and looked out of the window. He could tell Blaine was angry at him, but there was something else too. Angrily, the cp started the car again, swerved violently off the verge and set off up the hill again. As they crested the rise, in the distance, David could see a small collection of buildings nestling in a valley. Ominously, the buildings were surrounded by a high fence and as they drew closer, David read a sign by the side of the road._

'_Nodding Pines Detention Centre'._

_As Blaine made the turning down the wide track to the centre, David turned accusingly to the older man. 'So this is the camping trip huh? Let me out of the car John.'_

'_I can't. Davey I gave you every chance to tell me what had gone on, but now it's too late. Buddy, I tried, but this was the Judge's idea, not mine. If you didn't come here, it would have been full on Juvi.'_

_The car came to a halt in a large wire netting compound. Behind him, David saw a man in a uniform start to close a big iron gate and with a roar of anger, the boy shot out of the car._

'_Noooo' David yelled as he ran for the gate as fast as his legs could carry him. He'd always been fleet of foot and was almost free of the yard when a huge weight knocked him to the ground, grinding the breath from his young body. John tacked him as he would tackle any fleeing criminal and bore David to the ground, holding on as the young man kicked out in a desperate bid for freedom. Slowly Blaine managed to grab David's wrists, pinning him to the ground as he straddled the young muscular body._

'_Davey cool it. For God's sake cool it huh? This wasn't my idea. It wasn't my fault.'_

_Beneath him, David had lost his tenuous hold on his temper altogether. He thrashed his head from side to side, fighting like a panther to rid himself of the cop's imprisoning body._

'_You knew about this all along and you never told me. I thought you were my friend. Lemme go. Leave me alone John…..lemme go!'_

_David shouted into the morning air and continued to struggle even as a tall, blond haired man came bustling out of the closest building. He wore a white coat and had a stethoscope slung around his neck. In one hand he held some leather restraints and in the other a syringe of some clear, pinkish substance._

'_Hold him still' the doctor commanded as he knelt by the side of the boy._

'_He doesn't need that' Blaine said breathlessly as he looked at the needle with alarm. 'Just let me have a minute with him.'_

'H_e needs to learn to be quiet' the doctor said and plunged the needle into David's upper arm, depressing the plunger to inject the sedative. Within seconds, it started to take effect and David's struggles calmed. Eventually, through drooping eyelids, David focused on John's face._

'_M'ssssory' he slurred as two guards took a hold of his arms and hauled him to his feet._

'_Don't worry Davey. It's not for long. Just behave huh? I'll be back' John said as the two bog men started to semi carry the youngster away. As they passed the doctor, they paused._

'_Which room is he going into Doctor Hutchinson?' they asked._

'_Room 6. Leave him on the bed and lock the door. I'll see him later' the doctor said, pocketing the syringe. As he turned back to his office, a young flaxen haired boy with crystal blue eyes looked out at the scene._

'_Why'd ya do that Dad? He would have calmed down' Ken said quietly as his father came back into the room._

'_Because it's quicker and more effective, especially with these types' the doctor muttered and went back to his work. This summer residency sucked. He hated the fact that he was away from his wife and the high society Duluth life he so enjoyed. Only the fact that he was able to test some of his more exotic drugs on the inmates made the 8 weeks of social hell in some way worthwhile._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_David woke up some time later feeling nauseous and disorientated. Slowly he opened his eyes and stared up at a blank white ceiling above him. For an age his gaze remained fixed on the single fluorescent strip of light above him. It shed a cold, comfortless light into the room, doing nothing to make the 16 year old feel any less alone._

_Absently, he rubbed at the sore spot on his upper arm, remembering the needle the big man had plunged into the muscle there. The struggle with the two guards had been bad enough, but young David could not banish the growing fear that he had been duped by the man he thought was his friend._

_As David fought with every sinew in his body against the two large guards, John Blaine staggered backwards and watched helplessly as they grabbed a hold of David's arms and pinned them to his sides. When David's knee connected with one of the men's groin, the big man retaliated with a swift, hard blow to David's jaw, temporarily stunning him. At that point he thought he heard Blaine's voice yelling at his two captors not to hurt him, but by then the doctor had got to work with his sedative and the world was rapidly losing focus._

_With a low groan, David rolled over onto his side and then up into a sitting position. It didn't improve the sickness in the pit of his stomach and for one second, he thought he was going to throw up. Swallowing, however, he managed to keep control over his rebellious system and he shuffled backwards until his back hit the cool plaster wall. Resting there for a moment, David looked around his new accommodation._

_The room was perhaps 15' square and painted white with a grey and cream chequerboard effect tiled floor. In one corner there was a stainless steel sink and a toilet pan, in the other corner was a small, narrow bunk with a white sheet and a blue blanket on it. There was no window and the back of the door had no handle. There was, however a 12" square observation window let into the door and somehow, that one small aperture became the source of David's anger._

_Stiffly, he rose to his feet and limped towards the door. A tall lad, even his 6' meant he had to stand on tiptoe to look through the window and even then all he saw was a corridor stretching away in front of him. David slammed his fist into the hard wooden door in despair. He was alone. His Mom had had to get rid of him because of his temper, he'd had trouble at school because of it, and now his temper and his stupid pride had once again caused him more trouble then he cared to think about. This time, he'd angered and upset his aunt and uncle. The beating Al had given him was justified, he knew that, and he would have done anything to make it right with his elderly relatives, but now, to be shipped out of their home by the man he had regarded as a friend…._

_Fear and loneliness welled up inside David's chest and he rested his forehead against the wall. How long was he going to be here? The sign at the gate had said it was a detention centre. That was like a prison, right? John had told him he'd spoken to a Judge. Was this his sentence? To remain here? Was he a prisoner?_

_The fear now overwhelmed him and David turned once more to the door, kicking and hammering against the hard wood like a madman,__ all his emotions now pouring out of him as though a dam had broken somewhere deep in the core of his body. He yelled through the small window. 'Heeeyyyyy! Someone! C'mon, lemme outa here. Someone? Heeeeelllllllpppppp.'_

_David's heart raced in his chest. He was yelling to an empty corridor and yet the more he yelled the more his fear was replaced by anger. How dare Rosey and Al send him away? How dare Blaine turn him in to these flakes and abandon him? He wasn't gonna stay here any longer than he had to. He had rights…..they had no right to do this to him, no right. David continued to beat his fists against the door. It hurt, but the pain fuelled his anger and within minutes, the skin on his knuckles broke and he left dark, bloody smears against the white gloss paint._

_Eventually, his efforts subsided and he turned his back on the empty corridor and slid down the wall until he was hunkered on the ground, nursing his wounded fists. He hitched one, ragged, forlorn sob, ground the heels of his hands angrily into his eyes and rested his curly head back against the wall. He'd exhausted himself both physically and emotionally. He felt drained, but at the same time a little calmer. Not that he was accepting of his circumstances, but somehow, the Starsky spirit which had seen him through too many traumas in his short life was taking over and weaving a cocoon of indifference and pride around him. Fine – they'd left him here and they weren't coming back so he'd damn well have to make the best of it. There was no way he was gonna break down and no way he was gonna let a set of strangers see just how hurt he really was. They sent him there so he was gonna endure…..whatever came along._

_With the remnants of the sedative in his body and with the flood of emotion leaving him feel drained and empty, finally sleep overtook the boy and his body fell gently onto its side as he slept a dark and dreamless sleep, waiting for whatever else may happen to him__ and the day when he would finally be released._

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

O'Malley returned to Dobey's office with a minute to spare from his one hour deadline. He wheeled in front of him a trolley containing almost 400 files – all the cases in the past year that Starsky and Hutch had had any dealings with. As he knocked and walked into the room, Hutch groaned.

'One day we're gonna have to take it slower. Is this all the files?'

O'Malley nodded. 'Everything in the past 12 months, as requested. I have taken the liberty of separating out the more petty crimes from the more serious ones – that's the pile on the left. I didn't think Sergeant Starsky would have been taken by a guy you just happened to ticket for speeding.'

Dobey nodded. 'Good thinking. How many does that narrow it down by?'

'No more than 27 Sir. The rest are homicides, rapes, indecent assaults, kidnappings. You have 311 files to look through.'

Hutch ran his hands through his hair. 'We've been this way before' he muttered, remembering a similar time in the Captain's office when Starsky was racing against time and the deadly drug in his system. _I always thought you were a clock watcher. C'mon Dave….. did you hear that, he called me Dave…….what some people won't do to get on first name terms huh?........when the time comes, I can give him something for the pain…….you're my Pal Hutch……it hurts, oh God it hurts…._ The voices echoed in Hutch's head as his mind went back two years to a similar scenario. But then his partner had been right there by his side for the most part. Now the blond felt Starsky's absence keenly and he swallowed down the panic rising into his throat.

'So we've had practice' Dobey's voice penetrated Hutch's dark thoughts. 'We filter out the ones still in jail, those in hospitals, mental institutions. O'Malley, I want you to check that they're all still where they're meant to be. Meantime, Hutchinson and me will start lookin' through the rest. Do any of the names ring alarm bells?'

Hutch shook his head a wry smile on his face. 'All of 'em! Gimme a while. Most of these turkeys threatened serious harm to the both of us but that's just talk for the most part. I don't think too many of 'em would try it. If we had a dollar for every empty threat we'd be sunnin' ourselves in Rio. It's just somethin' that goes with the territory. Did you put the APB out on Starsk?'

Dobey nodded. 'Nothin' as yet.'

'Ok, well, lets get to work' the blond cop mumbled as he reached for the first handful of files. He sighed as he balanced the buff coloured documents on his knee and looked at Starsky's neat, backwards slanting left handed writing and his own scrawl. (_Jeez Hutchy, ya should'a been a doctor with that handwriting. Take these reports to a pharmacy and they'd make a script up from 'em). _For the next 45 minutes, the two men read through the MOs of the various criminals mostly in silence, only a few comments or questions interrupting the intense quiet in the room.

'Charley McMahon?' Dobey offered eventually.

Hutch considered a moment, his brow creased in concentration as he tried to picture the man. 'He was the flake we caught with the taste for burning women. Nice guy. He was a charmer. He threatened to waste the both of us and he meant it. As I recall though, he always left a calling card at the women's address. It was a compulsion of his. It had a picture of a burning cigarette on it. There was no card at Starsky's. His place looked like it hadn't been touched. Either whoever has him took time to straighten the place after a struggle or….' Hutch didn't want to say the rest, the implications of his partner being drugged, or hurt, or both making him shudder inwardly.

'Ok, back to it' the Captain sighed and bent over the files again, flipping through the sheaves of paper as he speed read the descriptions of the criminals.

'Jacky Cheo?'

'Nah…..he hated us both, but he would've just taken Starsk out with a bullet and then come after me. He always was the obvious sort. We're lookin' for someone who wants a little fun along the way.'

Dobey snorted. 'Fun huh? I hate the way you put that.'

A quarter of an hour later the silence was cut by a yip of triumph from the blond. Hutch looked up from his files and grinned. 'I think I have it! Ricardo Piraglia. He was the creep who got off on kidnapping kids and burying them alive while he waited for the ransom. He took that baseball players son?'

'Yeah, I remember.' Dobey nodded. 'But he kidnapped kids, not adults.'

'True, but Starsky really got to him. When we found him with his last victim, Starsk kept him talkin' while I got the kid. Turns out they're both Italian/Polish/Jewish God knows whatish. Piraglia was tellin' Starsk that he was a traitor to his people….that all the Polish Jews should stick together an' that if he ever got out, he was gonna come after Starsky and make him suffer like the Nazis made the Jews suffer in the concentration camps.'

The Captain paled. 'Nice guy! And where is Piraglia now?'

Hutch thumbed through the file of papers. 'He was sent to Cabrillo State indefinitely. He should still be there unless….. O'Malley, can you ring them and check?'

The big uniformed officer grunted, not liking to be a gofer for anyone other than Dobey. Reluctantly he took the file and disappeared into the squad room coming back five minutes later. O'Malley handed the file back to Hutch with a flourish.

'Ricardo Piraglia was discharged from Cabrillo State three days ago. They have an address of a hotel he was sent to as a kind of half way house. They were supposed to monitor him but they haven't been able to speak to him since his release.'

Hutch banged his hand on his knee. 'That's our man, I'd lay a dollar to a dime.' Taking the address from the big uniformed officer, he studied it and set off for the door.

'Where're you goin'?' Dobey snapped, getting up from his seat behind his desk.

'To get my partner back.'

The black man took his gun from his desk drawer and shouldered into his jacket. 'Not without me you're not' he muttered and hurried after Hutch down the corridor.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Hutch drove quickly to the motel on the outskirts of the seedier area of Bay City. He drove mechanically, half of his mind on the road and the other half working out a game plan for when he got a hold of Ricardo Piraglia. His memory of the flake from the time they arrested him was of a tall, well built man, his hair curly and dark just like Starsky's but longer and a little more unkempt. He had startling bright green eyes and a scar that ran from the corner of his right eye to finish by the corner of his mouth. The scar seemed to bisect what would otherwise have been an extraordinarily handsome face and seemed to be something that Piraglia felt acutely aware of. The scar also affected his speech, as though the wound had been deep enough to cut into his soft palate and his S and T sounds were softened to a slight lisp.

Starsky had tried to make a connection with the man while Hutch came in through the back of the small house he was holed up in. The brunet cop had used his background and ancestry to strike up a conversation with Piraglia and when Starsky mentioned his Jewish background (not that he practiced the faith any more) the kidnapper became more animated. He described a sad and lonely childhood brought up with older relatives in an area with no other young company. He went on to tell Starsky that he'd been beaten as a boy and used as cheap farm labour by his cousin and had finally run away at the age of 15. He told the cop that he took the children to keep them from being lonely – that he wanted to protect them and make them happy. He couldn't explain why he killed them other than to say they weren't suffering any more.

When Hutch rushed him from the rear, Piraglia had changed from quiet, lonely man to a squealing, kicking, biting madman. As he was pinned to the ground and handcuffed, he turned a blazing gaze on Starsky and told him that if it was the last thing he did, he would hunt both Starsky and Hutchinson down and make them suffer for what they'd done to him – he was no criminal, just a man making the world a better place.

After the trial both detectives continued to get hate mail from the flake, although he seemed to target Starsky more because of their common ancestry. They'd both ignored the threats – they were commonplace in their line of work and almost every turkey they arrested made death threats to them. This time, although the threats were made with intent, Piraglia was in Cabrillo State in the maximum security wing and was going nowhere for the foreseeable future……until now.

At Hutch's side, Dobey sat quietly, absorbed in his own thoughts. The Captain had had the good fortune to work with some great cops in his long police career, but these two young detectives were amongst the best. With a stunning police career however, came the unenviable record of being the target for every madman and turkey in the city. Most of the minor criminals and a lot of the bigger ones wanted the kudos of saying they'd taken out Starsky and Hutch. For their own part, the two detectives took the threats seriously, but refused to be intimidated by them. The joke that Hutch wouldn't go to see his Mom without his gun was funny, but held a note of truth – both men habitually carried a piece, even off duty, as self protection against those seeking retribution.

So how had Piraglia taken Starsky so easily?

Soon to find out, Hutch drew up outside the door of the seedy motel and switched off the engine.

'Whatever happens Cap'n, he's mine, ok?' Hutch took his big Colt Python from its holster and checked the ammunition. Satisfied, he pushed it down the back waistband of his jeans and watched as Dobey did the same.

'Don't do anythin' stupid. We need information.'

Hutch snorted. 'Believe me, when I've finished with that turkey he'll tell me his life's history. Ready?'

The black man nodded and the two got out of the car and walked purposefully into the motel and up to the grubby reception desk. A women smoking a cigarette looked up from her magazine and squinted through the blue smoke.

'Wadd'ya want?'

Hutch flashed his shield at her. 'Ricardo Piraglia. Which room is he in?'

'Twenny five. Take him…..little shit. He aint paid his rent and he aint been out the room in days. Just talks loud to who ever is in there with him.' the woman went back to her reading and Hutch led Dobey up the stairs to the first floor. They walked down the grey, stained corridor and paused outside the door marked 25. With Dobey on the left and Hutch on the right of the door, the blond rapped on the wood with the muzzle of his gun.

'Piraglia? Open up.'

The command elicited no response and with a nod to the big man opposite, Hutch pivoted on his left leg and kicked at the door with his right. It exploded inwards and as Dobey covered the top of the room with his gun, the flaxen haired cop knelt, covering the lower portion.

As the door flew inwards, they heard from a room down the small hallway a squeak of alarm and a moment later, the tall, Latin looking man appeared at the door. Hutch got to his feet and shot into the room quickly, grabbing Piraglia by the collar and slamming him against the wall.

'Where's my partner? What've ya done with Starsky? Is he here?' the blond demanded, his eyes boring into Piraglia's.

'I….I don't know what you mean.' The tall man looked genuinely confused and made no attempt to fight Hutch off. Instead he stood docilely, his hands at his sides as Hutch kept a hold of his collar. The blond was stunned.

Looking at Piraglia now, he seemed half the man that Starsky and he had arrested three years ago. He was obviously still as tall, but had lost weight, his face now gaunt, his eyes empty and haunted and with a glazed look. Once handsome, Piraglia's face was now unshaven, his clothes hanging from his frame, stained and dirty.

Slowly Hutch's hands fell from the collar and he took a step backwards.

'I'm gonna ask again – politely. Where's Detective Starsky?' The blond's ice cold eyes fixed unwaveringly on the other man, looking for any signs to give away Piraglia's frame of mind.

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Don't gimme that. There's someone here with ya, the woman on the front desk hears ya talkin'. You got him here, don't ya?'

Without waiting for an answer, Hutch pushed past the man and frantically searched the small apartment. Containing only four rooms, it didn't take long and the blond cop's heart sank as each room came up empty. The only sign of life was a budgie in a cage in the living room, its head cocked inquisitively on one side as it watched Hutch's search.

Falteringly, Piraglia shuffled into the room. 'He's mine. The hospital said it would be good for me to have company.'

'Don't come the innocent with me Ricardo. I kept all the letters you sent us an' I know how much you want to get back at us, so I'm gonna ask you one more time, what have you done with Dave Starsky? Where is he?'

Slowly a grin spread across Piraglia's face. 'Is he gone? Has he disappeared? Damned shame huh? I wish I'd been the one to do it, but as ya can see…..he aint here.'

Hutch's hands balled into fists and he would have swung for the tall man had Dobey not caught Hutch's hand in his own. 'Not now' the black man said quietly.

Hutch fought for some composure. 'Ricardo Piraglia, I'm arresting you for the suspected kidnapping of…..'

'Hutchinson, what're ya doin'?' Dobey's voice was a little louder as he interrupted the recitation.

'I'm takin' him in. He knows where Starsky is…..he has him holed up somewhere.'

Dobey drew the blond away from Piraglia and put a hand on his shoulder. 'You're not thinkin' clear. What evidence d'ya have? There's nothin' here to indicate he has Starsky.'

'But he…..'

'But he nothin'. You're too close to this son. We can't arrest him coz we haven't a scrap of evidence to support it.' Dobey's eyes drilled into Hutch's and slowly the blond nodded.

'Fine. But I'm gonna have a watch put on him. I'm gonna have his every move documented. He aint gonna be able to blow his nose without I know about it.'

'Whatever. We can do that – we can watch him….' Dobey drew Hutch to one side and lowered his voice as Piraglia shuffled over to the bird cage and started talking to the budgie. '…..but look at him. Take a good look. He was either a good actor or genuinely stunned when you said Starsky was missing. Right now he looks so doped up, he wouldn't be able to kidnap a baby, let alone a cop like your partner.'

Hutch was adamant. 'He's our best lead. You didn't know him like we did through his arrest. He's slippery as an eel Cap'n.' There was a hint of desperation in his eyes and Dobey nodded.

'Fine. We watch the apartment block and we sit and wait. If your hunch is right, he's gonna have to make a move some time. When he does we'll be ready and we can follow him. Even the most clever of 'em make mistakes.'

'He'd better make one soon. Starsky's been gone four days now an' I'm getting' a real bad feelin'.'

Dobey grimaced. 'You an' me both, but there's nothin' more we can do here.'

Reluctantly, the blond cop nodded his head, gave Piraglia a menacing look and left Dobey to tell the vacant looking man that they were leaving now and would be around. Ricardo seemed hardly to take it in. He continued to talk to the small blue bird in the cage and nodded a couple of times before the Captain joined Hutch outside in the hallway.

'You still think he's our man?'

'I'd stake my crummy police pension on it. He's clever – he's actin'. He has Starsky, I'm sure of it, especially after all the threats he made over the last couple've years.'

'Well he's a damned good actor' Dobey said thoughtfully. 'But we'll have a black and white posted outside as much as we can spare one. He won't be able to go anywhere without we know about it.'

Hutch nodded briefly. 'Good as it's gonna get. Meantime, I'm gonna get back home and wash up. I'll be back downtown later.'

The big black man took in the rings under Hutch's eyes and the grey cast to his face. 'Uh uh. You stay put an' rest. You aren't gonna be any good to your partner if you're dead on your feet. I don't want to see you till tomorrow, got that?'

'Is that an order?'

'Seemed like one to me. Now go. I can handle things here.'

Gratefully. The flaxen haired cop turned and walked swiftly down the hallway. His brief time with Piraglia made his skin crawl and he rushed to distance himself from the man. Certain that the flake knew the whereabouts of his buddy, Hutch had to fight with himself not to go back inside and beat the information out of him. But police rules were rules and especially when Dobey was with him. Given time away from his Captain, however, and if Piraglia didn't make a move, the cop knew he'd be back at the seedy motel sooner rather than later, and then he wouldn't be quite so congenial with Ricardo.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Hands.

There were hands on his body again and inwardly Starsky flinched from their touch. They felt cold, hard, impersonal as they seemed to check him over, starting at the respirator hose protruding from his mouth. The hands wiggled the tube and the brunet had the urge to cough again. Over the past however long it was, his throat had started to become accustomed to the intruder and for minutes at a time, Starsky could forget that it governed his every breath. Sure, the machine still inflated his lungs with maddening slowness leaving him feeling light headed, but at least it was keeping him alive.

The next feeling the blindfolded cop had was of cool liquid running into his stomach. The madman who had him was obviously intent on keeping him well fed as Starsky seemed to find a regular pattern in the times the hands ran over his body. The liquid food running through the Ryles naso-gastric tube left his stomach feeling not exactly full, but at least a little less empty, but it was his mouth and tongue that suffered most.

Starsky felt as though the inside of his mouth had dried out altogether. With the hose protruding from between his teeth, he was unable to swill his tongue around and he felt his lips cracking and desiccated as his tongue seemed to swell to fit the remaining space beside the respirator tube. The lack of fluid…..or maybe it was the drug itself, also left him with pains in his head that threatened to make him pass out – if he'd been able. They weren't so much headaches as knife-like pains that started at his left temple and arced back behind his eyes and if he could he would have cradled his head in his hands to stop their assault on his senses. Coupled with those in his head, he also experienced painful cramps in his stomach and bowels and a curious and powerful feeling of pins and needles in his extremities, as though he'd been laid on his hands all night and had lost sensation in them. The feeling scared Starsky. Was it permanent? What did it mean? Only his memories kept the brunet feeling remotely sane.

Finished with the feeding ritual now, the hands moved lower still to the centre of the bound and drugged man's body. This was one invasion too much and as he felt the fingers wrap around his catheterised cock, Starsky screamed out in anger inside his head.

_Leave me alone……get your dirty hands off of me now……too much……it's too much. Huuuuuuutch! __Damn, is this ever gonna end? Take your hands off of me now….._

The litany ran through Starsky's head as the hands emptied the catheter bag, checked the tube was still in place by giving it a playful but painful tug and lingered fractionally longer than was decent on the Starsky family jewels. Olive toned skin crawled, but try as he might, the brunet was unable to move so much as a muscle to escape the caress and Starsky could only make do with thoughts of how slowly he could kill this flake when the time came.

Eventually, the hands left him and Starsky waited for the familiar breeze of cooler air wafting over his body to signal that the man had again left him alone in the room. This time, however, the sensation did not come. Instead, the brunet felt a movement at the sides of his head and a moment later the wadding was removed from his ears and – thanks be to every god known to man! – he could hear again.

A voice hissed in his ear as Starsky enjoyed the sensation of feeling once again a part of the world, but the words chilled him to the core and left him feeling unnerved and vulnerable once more.

'Having a good rest, are we Davey? It's good to see you behaving yourself for once. Now that you're nice and relaxed I'm going to take the bindings off. I don't think you need them any more, do you?'

The man didn't pause for an answer. He knew very well that his prisoner was unable to utter a word, but as the presence left the side of his head, Starsky felt his captor's hands fiddling with something out to his side. A second later, the brunet felt the restraints slacken around his left wrist and then fall completely away. The left wrist was very soon joined by the liberation of his right wrist and then one of his ankles and at that point Starsky galvanised into action.

With a mighty heave, he sat up, slammed the man against the wall and spun to get up from the table…….or at least that's how it penned out in his head. With his arms and legs technically free and the man's hands now working at loosening his chest and head restraints, Starsky's mind went into overdrive. He was ready to move…..ready to pounce on his captor, and he could almost feel the delight as his left fist would connect with the man's face.

Reality, however, was a completely different scenario. Sure, Starsky tried to bunch his muscles and in his head, he felt them move, but the drug paralysing his system was powerful and had been flowing through his body for three days. Even if he had managed by some miracle to move, the very fact he'd been laid immobile for over 36 hours would have meant he'd have been weak and unable to fight well.

As it was, the man stood back and watched his captive with interest. Starsky's mind was yelling at his muscles to move. With every sinew in his body, the brunet directed all his energy to his left hand and although in his imagination he'd just ordered it to curl into a fist, the man saw the very end of Starsky's left fore finger twitch. He smiled and nodded to himself and went back to his station by Starsky's head.

'I have to say, I'm impressed' the voice hissed in the brunet's ear. 'After 3 days of my drug, you can still try to move. Some of my other, less strong willed subjects have been limp as stranded jellyfish by now. Just a word of warning though. Twitching a finger is hardly escape material and much as I know you're relying on him, your partner won't be coming to save you any time soon. He has no idea where you are and he has no idea who has you. I've checked. As they say across the pond, he's barking up the wrong tree. Much as I would love to stay and chat though, it's time for a little more quiet time now Davey. My paper awaits and I have to say, you're my best test subject to date. I wanted someone feisty enough to keep fighting the drug and you were the first person that came to mind. They're bound to give me an award for this. I can see the ceremony now – black tie, ladies in elegant cocktail dresses and the whole of the medical profession honouring me for my work. Just as it should be. Just as it used to be. And of course, I'll give you some of the credit, I promise. Now, back to your memories Davey, you've had enough excitement for one day.'

Starsky longed to retort. The clever words were on the tip of his dry, swollen tongue, but with the power of speech also taken from him, all he could do was lie, powerless and paralysed on the table as the madman once again stuffed the wadding back into his ears, effectively cutting off his last connection with the outside world. For an instant, Starsky felt the cold, icy fingers of panic clutch at him again and once more he retreated into his own world of memories haunted by his partner and the first time they met.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Hutch woke from his sleep suddenly. Something – some noise jarred at his senses and he rolled over onto his back, trying to work out just what the noise was and where it came from.

The previous evening, when Dobey had sent him home, Hutch had spent his time working through his and Starsky's joint phone list. The blond ploughed through the numbers of friends, ex girlfriends, snitches, dealers and even another round of the hospitals and the morgue before flinging the telephone receiver down in disgust. No one had seen hide nor hair of his partner, or if they had, they weren't telling. Weary, and yet unwilling to just go to sleep while Starsky was still at an unknown destination, Hutch had padded into his bedroom and laid down on the bed. Against his will and despite his best endeavours however, the emotional and physical stress of the past days finally caught up with him and slowly his eyelids drooped and sleep overtook him.

It was the phone jangling on its cradle that had shaken the flaxen haired cop awake and as reality and recognition hit, Hutch made a lunge for it, legging himself up in his sheets and landing with a thump on the floor. He cursed, picked himself up and made a grab for the receiver.

'Hutchinson, talk to me' he snapped down the phone.

'Hutch, it's Perry. We um….well we were watching Piraglia and um. Well we don't know how, but he's managed to make his way up to the roof of the apartment block. He's threatening to jump unless you come by.'

'I'll be right there' Hutch snapped. No recriminations, no "how the hell did that happen?" The blond had one thing and one thing alone on his mind – that Piraglia was the only one who knew where Starsky was. Blame and finger pointing would come later.

Replacing the receiver, Hutch sprang into action, gathering his worn cream cord pants, his green tee shirt and his worn, but favourite plaid lumberjack shirt. It caressed him like a lover and hid the weapon swinging beneath his left arm. Packing the cuffs and his shield into his pockets, Hutch rushed for the door just as the phone rang once again.

The cop froze in his tracks. Shit! Had the flake jumped already? Hastily Hutch snagged the phone again and snarled into the mouthpiece. 'What?'

'Ken?' It wasn't the voice Hutch had been expecting and he let out a sigh of relief as he recognised his sister Karen's voice.

'Hey Poochy. Now's not a real good time. Can I call you back later?'

'Can you? It's um…..well Dad isn't well and we're worried about him.' The woman's voice sounded worried and on the point of breaking down and for a moment a twinge of regret hit Hutch in the chest.

'Is it serious?'

'We think so. Not dying serious, but still. Ken he's……'

'So long as he aint dyin' I need to get goin' honey. I'll ring when I can' Hutch said heavily.

'But Ken…..'

'Karen, Dad an' me haven't spoken for three years. I'm the last person he'd want at his sick bed. I need to go.'

'But he's……' Karen's words were cut off abruptly as Hutch put down the phone and hurried from the apartment. Damn his Dad, Starsky's life was more important right now.

Hutch drove at top speed from his house to the other side of town. His mind was in turmoil and over and again he prayed that he would not be too late. Despite Dobey's reservations, Hutch was convinced that Piraglia was the one who had Starsky and knew he would do everything in his power to stop the flake from wasting himself before the flaxen haired cop had got the information he needed.

There was a small group of people gathered in the street out at the front of the motel and a small area had been cordoned off by red and white police tape emblazoned with the words "Do not cross". Ignoring the warning, the blond ducked beneath the tape and walked over to Sgt Perry.

'What's happened Harv?'

Perry's face was tight with worry. 'Nothin' since we called ya. He's up there threatening to jump but he wants to see you.'

Hutch grimaced. 'Peachy' he grunted and craned his neck to make out the top of the building in the darkness. Going out on a ledge to talk to a madman was not Hutch's first idea of amusement and a thrill of fear ran down his spine. If Piraglia did have Starsky, what was to stop him pushing Hutch off of the ledge? But if he didn't go up there, or if Piraglia jumped, he'd never find out where his partner was. The situation placed him between a rock and a hard place and with a heavy heart Hutch nodded at Perry and sighed.

'Ok, keep a watch huh? I'll be back later.'

As Hutch set off to enter the building, the sergeant called after him. 'Hutch? Watch your step huh?'

The flaxen haired cop grinned and pushed open the front door.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_David spent an uncomfortable night alone in his little room. Finally exhausted by all that had happened to him, he lay down on the bunk and stared at the ceiling, his hands clasped over his chest. So much had happened and it was all down to his stupid, stupid temper. He desperately wanted to apologise to his Uncle Al and even more so to his Aunt Rosey. They had been good to him even though they were so much older than his Mom and had little energy to deal with a reckless and sometimes wild teenage boy. But wild as David was, he was not without feelings, and right now he was beside himself with sorrow that he'd caused his relatives pain._

_David was also blazing mad at John Blaine. The older cop had befriended him when he'd first come to Bay City. Being younger than Rosey and Al, the childless John and Nancy had taken David under their wing. It was from John that David learned how to box, how to fish and how to fire a gun. He went to ball games with Blaine and went to delicious home made teas with Nancy – Rosey may have been kind, but her cooking was atrocious!_

_When Blaine had appeared n his bedroom this morning, David had thought it was so that they could have some time together to give Al time to cool down. It never crossed his mind that John would take him away to this hellhole of a prison – for prison is how David thought of the correctional facility. The sense of betrayal was so strong that David could hardly bear the memory of his one time friend. __With the strong emotions, however, came a weariness that enfolded the teenager and dragged him down into a pit of deep, dark sleep filled with dreams of retribution, anger and loneliness and for over 18 hours David tossed and turned in his bed until he was finally woken by the door to his room being opened and a uniformed man entering._

'_David?' The man shook the boy gently on his shoulder and with sleep blurred eyes David turned over and glared at the man._

'_Yeah?'_

'_There's some coffee here for you. Then I want you to wash up and be ready in 15 minutes. You have a medical appointment due.'_

_David took the cup of hot coffee gratefully and sipped at the strong brew. The taste was so familiar and the aroma revived him a little._

'_I don't need no medical. I'm fine.'_

_The man smiled apologetically. 'Rules is rules. Every resident has a medical. It's just so we can check you out, it's nothin' to be scared of.'_

'_I'm not scared!' the teenager retorted loudly. 'Just don't want no doctor messin' with me. I hate docs an' hospitals. I said I'm fine._

_The man smiled. He'd spent 15 years working at Nodding Pines and he'd seen allsorts of young men and women coming through the doors. In David he recognised a good boy who had reached a time in his life where he needed a firm, fair hand and a little discipline. There was nothing inherently wrong with David Starsky, he just needed direction and a sense of belonging - and a friend. With a smile, he sat down on the bed, hitching David's legs out of the way._

'_I'm Henry. I've been here a long time an' I'm gonna be with you for a while so we may as well try to get along. Tell ya what. You do the medical and after that we can go and meet the others. There's two hours each morning where the boys and girls get to socialise.'_

'_There's girls?' David's face brightened a little over the rim of his coffee cup._

'_Oh yeah, there's girls, but don't get too many wild ideas. The only time you meet them is the supervised two hours' Henry grinned. He patted David's knees encouragingly. 'Drink up and I'll be back in 10 minutes to take you to the clinic, ok?'_

'_Not ok, but I'll do it' David said with a grin. Something about Henry reminded him of John Blaine. For a moment, he felt a twinge of loss and then hardened his heart. Blaine had deserted him. He'd trusted his friend and this is what had happened. Was it worth trusting anyone ever again? David doubted it and set about building a brick wall around his heart so high that he hoped it would be impenetrable. If he didn't have friends, they couldn't hurt him and if they couldn't hurt him, he'd never again feel as bad as right now._

_With__ the coffee in his stomach and those thoughts in his head, the curly haired boy set about getting himself washed ready for the dreaded medical. His ankle - the one he'd hurt falling from the bridge was swollen, stiff and badly ruised. It caused him to limp painfully but the pain also made David feel strong in a wierd sort of way. He hugged it to him and bit down on his lip as the pains arced up his left shin. Ten minutes later Henry reappeared and held the door open, indicating David should follow him down the hallway._

'_What, no handcuffs?' David asked darkly._

'_Whatever you think of this place it isn't a prison David.'_

'_No? Could've fooled me. If it aint a prison, why did they lock my door last night?'_

_Henry gave him a look. 'If we hadn't can you honestly tell me you wouldn't have bolted?'_

_David looked back defiantly. 'Course not.'_

'_See then? David, I'm not as young as I used to be and my arthritic hip doesn't enjoy running through the forest in the middle of the night. Give us a chance. Once you've settled in you may find you like it here.'_

'_If there's girls I could get to like it.'_

'_We aren't a prison, but there are still rules and penalties if the rules are broken. And one of the big taboos is that boys and girls don't mix except when they're supervised.'_

'_I'll try to remember that' David deadpanned as they both stopped outside a large, white door which was labelled "Clinic". Henry knocked and at the brief "come" he pushed open the door and ushered David into the bright, white room._

'_See you later' Henry said as David looked over his shoulder at him with a sigh._

'_Yeah' the youth said without emotion. 'See ya.'_

_David looked around him cautiously. He hated anything that looked even vaguely like a hospital or doctor's surgery. His first real experience of white coats had been when he and Nicky and his Mom were ushered through the busy corridors of the hospital in New York where his Dad's body had been taken after he'd been shot dead. That single experience had stuck with David and would continue to colour his view of hospitals for the rest of his life. To David they were places of death, not life and he repressed a shudder._

_In the middle of the room was the ubiquitous examination couch, gleaming stainless steel and black leather making it look even more cold and impersonal. Over it a bright lamp illuminated a centre spot. The far wall was lined with glass fronted cupboards containing various instruments and bottles and there was a fridge by the opposite door. A desk stood to one side and by it was a tall blond haired, well built older man wearing a white coat and a gangly teenager of maybe 16 with a clear, golden complexion and an untidy mop of flaxen coloured hair. The youth could have been taken for one of the many surfers who frequented the Californian beaches and as he looked up, David saw clear, crystal blue eyes study him earnestly._

_Swell! Not only a medical, but an audience too!_

_The older man stepped forward briskly and David read the name on the name badge on his coat. Dr R Hutchinson MD. The man indicated David should come further into the room without actually speaking or making eye contact. David took one more step and stopped._

_Dr Hutchinson turned to the other youth and snapped his fingers. 'Kenneth, make notes please and for God's sake stop daydreaming. This is……' the doctor rifled through a thin buff file of papers '…..David Starky'_

'_Starsky' David corrected immediately. The doctor looked up and frowned._

'_Starsky….whatever. How old are you?'_

'_16'_

'_Date of birth?'_

'_11__th__ March.'_

'_Place of birth?'_

'_Brooklyn, New York.'_

'_Hmm. Strip to your underpants and step onto the scales.'_

'_I can tell you my weight' David snapped as the boy in the corner looked away and busied himself with his writing._

'_I'm sure you can. Strip and get on the scales.'_

'_No.' The word was said loudly and forcefully and the blazing indigo blue eyes defied the doctor to make comment. Dr Hutchinson, however, was as stubborn as his patient and stood with his arms folded, his expression singularly unimpressed._

'_Don't mess with me. I have better things to do with my time than argue with you. I know how to deal with your kind. Either you undress voluntarily or I sedate you and ask one of the guards to do it for you. Your choice.'_

_Seeing the steely look in the doctor's eyes David wondered about standing his ground for a moment. How far could he push? He hated this. He hated feeling powerless and out of his depth and for a moment a childish longing to be back with his Mom in the familiar surroundings of Brooklyn shook him. He missed her more than he ever let on and stupidly felt a tear prickle in the corner of his eye. __Ignoring the feeling and pushing his longing deep down inside him, the curly haired youth made his decision. Needles were not his favourite thing and somehow spending another few hours of his life struggling with guards or being sedated seemed a waste. Squaring his shoulders, David slowly pulled his tee shirt off over his head and started on the button on his jeans. In the corner of the room, the blond haired boy looked away uncomfortably and busied himself sharpening a pencil._

_Dressed only in his black hipster briefs, David stood on the scales indicated by the doctor as Hutchinson read off his weight and height._

'_Average' the doctor commented non committally as he walked around the brunet. He stopped as he reached David's back and without any pretence at gentleness, he stroked his finger down one of the longer blue/black bruises decorating the boy's back and thighs. David flinched at the touch and hissed and turned angrily to regard the older man._

'_You done now? Finished starin'.' he snapped._

'_Someone seems to know how to handle you' Dr Hutchinson smiled coldly. He touched the bloody bruise on David's hip where the belt buckle had caught him, turned away and returned a moment later with a bottle of brown liquid and some gauze. Wetting the white fabric, he smeared the iodine over the open wound and patted it dry. The murderous stuff bit at the raw flesh and David curled his hands into fists and clamped his lips together to keep himself from yelping._

'_Childhood illnesses?' the doctor continued as he put the bottle back into its allotted cupboard._

'_Measles, mumps and chickenpox.'_

'_Anything else?'_

'_I had pneumonia once. Does that count?' David answered sarcastically._

_The sentiment was lost on the doctor and in the corner there was a muffled grunt as the blond haired boy continued making notes._

'_Broken bones?'_

_David sighed. 'Yeah. I broke my ankle, the left one about a year ago.'_

'_Seems like you've hurt it again' the doctor observed and indeed the fall from the bridge had caused David's left ankle to swell and turn blue. Carefully the doctor waggled the limb probing deeply into the bruised muscle. 'Nothing's broken, but I'm going to strap it up and I'll give you a set of crutches. You should leave your weight off of it for a couple of days.'_

'_I aint gonna use crutches! I'm no retard ya know!' David spat angrily._

'_And I'm not a man to argue with. I'm the doctor around here and if I have to glue them to your arms, you'll use them for as long as I say so. Sit down and put your foot up here.'_

_Reluctantly, David did as he was told and he admitted to himself that once the bandage was in place, his ankle did feel better, not that he'd let the older man know that. He lay the offending pair of crutches on the floor by his side as if trying to ignore them._

'_Can I get dressed now?'_

'_Hmm? Oh yes. Put those on, your clothes will be taken away to be laundered. You get them back when you leave.'_

'_But….'_

_Dr Hutchinson swung around and glared at David. David, for his part glared back finally seeing how he could push the older man's buttons. 'You'd do well to learn to do things without questioning. I know your sort, all mouth. I get sick of you kids answering back. Get the clothes on and get out of here huh?'_

_The curly haired boy picked up the dark blue jeans and the dark blue tee shirt with a collar outlined in white. It was short sleeved and like the jeans fit well enough, but was not as tight as he preferred. The sneakers he'd been given, however, were something else entirely. Mid blue suede and with white laces, he had to admit they were better than his usual loafers and when David put them on he realised just how practical and comfortable they were. At least not everything in this hellhole was bad!_

_Turning back to the doctor he smiled cheekily. 'Do I get to go now __**Sir**__?' he asked, emphasising the Sir._

'_Not till I say so, I have some more questions.'_

'_Like?'_

'_Do you smoke?'_

'_Do you?'_

'_Just answer the question.'_

'_Reefers or tobacco?' David said, watching the doctor's face starting to turn red with anger._

'_What?'_

'_I just wanted to clarify.'_

'_Answer the question' Dr Hutchinson snarled._

'_Yeah to both.'_

'_Have you had unprotected sex recently?'_

'_Is there any other way?' David smiled as the boy in the corner of the room stifled a chuckle._

_At the final remark, Dr Hutchinson threw his stethoscope down in the corner. 'Get out' he yelled. 'Get out and stay out of my way for the rest of your stay.'_

_Cheekily, David flipped a brief salute, gathered up the crutches from the floor and limped out of the room, a grin on his face. 'Yes Sir.' Some days it felt good to be alive!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_As David limped from the room muttering under his breath about the crutches and how they made him feel like he was inferior, he heard a door bang behind him and he paused, expecting Dr Hutchinson to have another remark to make. He had taken an instant dislike to the older medic and from the comments Dr H had made to him it appeared that the feeling was mutual. David had, however, always been a healthy boy and so he hoped fervently that this would be his one and only trip to the clinic and that he wouldn't have to suffer the doctor's company again any time soon._

'_Hey!' The voice didn't sound like Dr Hutchinson's and slowly David pivoted on his one good foot to see the blond haired boy from the doctor's room walking down the hallway towards him._

'_Hey yourself' the brunet said in less than friendly tones. 'If you wanted more of a peep show, the star is goin' back to his dressin' room.'_

'_I um….I don't. I mean I wasn't. Peeping…..watchin'. I wasn't doin' any of that.'_

'_No? Then what were ya doin'? Looked like you were coppin' an eyeful t'me.'_

'_I'm supposed to__ take notes. I'm like a sssssecretary I guess.'_

'_I thought all secretaries were chicks. Hey you aint gay are ya? I mean it's bad enough you bein' there but it'd finish me if you were…..ya know…..'_

'_I'm not gay, no. I just….Well um. Dr Hutchinson is my Dddad and….'_

'_Aww terrific!' David turned on his heel and started to limp away as the boy with the flaxen bangs hurried to catch him up again. This time, he caught a hold of David's arm and stopped him._

'_Just coz he's my Dad, don't for one minute think I'm like him.'_

'_No?' _

'_No. I'm only here coz he wants me to go to Med school to be a doctor and he thinks this is all good experience. Basically he's pissed at being here. He's here coz a colleague went sick and Dad is ccccovering for him but he misses his cocktail parties and friends'_

'_I bet. This aint exactly 5__th__ Avenue. And what do you think? You gonna be a doctor, or what?' David asked looking into the earnest crystal blue eyes of the other boy. There was something about him…..something about the open genuine face and the slight stammer that chased away David's anger and with a deep breath the brunet relaxed a little, taking the weight on his crutches as he rubbed the side of his nose and waited._

'_Dunno. Right now I think I'd rather be out in the fresh air campin' or maybe down at the beach with a girl.'_

_David grinned. 'Well I wouldn't pay you a dime for the campin', but the beach and a chick seems like a good idea. I'm David……but 'course you know that already.' He wedged the crutch under his arm and held out a hand._

'_Um…..Ken. Ken Hutchinson, but I hate the name so my friends tend to call me Hutch. For short…..kind like a…..'_

'_Hutch huh? Do I get to call ya that?' David asked, his indigo blue eyes sparkling with laughter at the solemn blond._

'_I hoped you would. I um……well I'm not supposed to mix with….'_

'_Us criminal types' David finished and felt bad when Hutch blushed a deep red. 'Sorry' he muttered softly 'that was out of order.'_

'_S'ok__. You aren't like most of the other guys here.'_

'_How'd'ya figure that? You think I'm soft or sumthin?'_

'_Uh uh. No! It's just……the others have never answered my Dddad like that. They either clam up or get violent. You just stood your ground and gave as gggood as ya got. It got under his skin.'_

_David grinned. 'I have a habit of that.'_

_Hutch grinned back, liking something about the curly haired guy. He seemed old for his years and there was something behind his eyes that belied the clever words he used. Hutch felt there was a vulnerability to David, something that didn't show too much, but which made the wise-cracking boy more human than most of the others. For the most part, the other residents shunned Hutch, seeing him as in collusion with the "enemy". David seemed different and the blond felt an overwhelming desire to have the brunet as a friend._

_I um…..I know this place pretty well and um…..there's a barn down the hill a ways. It's out of bounds at night, but a few of the girls go there coz it's closer to the girl's dorm and they can smoke.'_

'_And you're saying what?'_

'_I'm sayin' that if you want some time out…..'_

_Their quick conversation was cut short as the doctor stuck his head out of the door and yelled down the corridor. 'Kenneth? What are you doing? We have work to do and I've told you before about mixing with the residents. I won't ask again.'_

_Hutch flashed a quick, golden grin at his new friend. 'I'll find your room. I'll come by for you tonight – about 10:30' he hissed over his shoulder as he made his way back to the clinic door._

_David stood and watched him go. 'Sure thing' he called after the blond, never for one minute thinking that he'd see Hutch again. David's kind didn't meet with well spoken mid westerners who obviously had money and connections. It didn't happen to boys from Brooklyn, at least not to David's knowledge. But at the same time, it was the first friendly conversation he'd had with someone his own age since he'd gotten to the facility and it made him feel less of an outsider. Smiling to himself, David hopped off down the hallway to discover what other delights the facility had in store._

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Most of the motel was in darkness at that early hour of the morning and it took Hutch's eyes a moment to accustom themselves to the gloom. The reception had the same smell all the other seedier places had. It was a mixture of cheap disinfectant, beer, stale urine and sweat and the blond man's nose wrinkled. Piraglia had certainly found a great place to hide out!

Making his way up the steps, the flaxen haired cop paused outside Piraglia's door. It stood ajar and for a moment Hutch argued with himself – should he search the place for clues of his partner's whereabouts, or should he head on up to the roof and question the suspect in person. Between the devil and the deep blue sea, he finally decided on the direct approach and pulling the door closed, Hutch hurried on up the remaining flights of stairs, pushing open the door onto the flat, wide roof. It reminded him of another roof, not too many months ago, when he'd been pinned down by Bellamy's gunfire until Starsky had blown the turkey away. This time, he had no brunet for backup and Hutch's stomach lurched sickeningly.

A blast of warm air hit him as the blond emerged onto the roof. He hugged the wall of the stairwell as he cast about, appraising the venue with a practiced gaze. In a second, Hutch established places where he could shelter, places where he would be vulnerable, the dark, cowering figure of Ricardo Piraglia and the just what a long way down to the ground it was.

'_It aint the fall that kills ya boy, it's hittin' the ground at the end.'_ Hutch's Granddad's voice echoed in his head – another one of Granddad Wilbur's homespun truths. At the time, a young Hutch had giggled at the notion. Suddenly the words took on a grimmer meaning.

Taking a deep breath, the blond cop left the sanctuary of the shadows and made his way as calmly as he could to the parapet so that he was behind and to one side of Piraglia. He stopped maybe five feet away, not wanting to crowd the man and aimed for a calm, assertive voice.

'You wanted to see me?'

The gaunt, haunted man stiffened and turned his head, a wild look in his eyes. 'I wanted you to see what you've done to me.'

'I haven't done nothin'. Come away from the edge an' let's talk huh?'

'You have no idea. I was fine till you showed up. you an' your accusations. You an' your words. They warned me you'd never leave me alone. They said I should be careful.'

Hutch took a step closer. 'Who did Ricardo? Who told ya?'

'The voices. They talk to me. They told me you hated me. They said you'd never leave me alone.'

'They're wrong Ricardo. I only want one thing. I just need to know where Starsky is.' Hutch held out a hand to the trembling man and plastered what he hoped was a friendly smile on his face. 'C'mon buddy. We can talk about this.'

'It's too late for that. Talk's cheap. This is your fault cop. I hope you have this on your conscience for the rest of your life. You and that Jewish turncoat of a partner.' Piraglia turned away from Hutch and shuffled closer to the edge of the ledge. Hutch rushed forwards, but stopped short of grabbing the man. Piraglia was balanced precariously on the edge holding onto the wall by his fingertips. One wrong move now and any information would be lost for good. The blond dropped his voice, making it soft…..welcoming…….forgiving.

'If you step away from the edge buddy, we can talk. I can answer the voices in your head. I can make sure they don't bother you again. I can get you help, maybe a better place to live. Maybe another bird to keep yours company huh? What d'ya say? Wanna step away and we can talk? Huh?'

The quivering man froze, listening to Hutch's words. Did the cop mean it? Could he help. The voices in his head were getting louder every day. They didn't let him sleep. Only the Budgie's chirping kept them away – drowned them out. Too loud. They were getting too loud and he had no peace any more. The hospital had promised him quiet and anonymity and yet the voices had found him. Piraglia shrugged away from the voices. They were calling to him again and confusion filled his eyes as he looked back at Hutch and the outstretched hand of salvation.

Cautiously, he let go of the warm stone façade and held out his hand to the blond cop, a beseeching look in his misty eyes.

'Help me' he pleaded as he took a final step out into the void.

Hutch ran to the edge, his hand grasping for Piraglia's but he was too late. Powerless, the blond cop stared over the edge at the sickening sight of the thin man plummeting to the ground, his eyes closed and a look of utter contentment on his face.

'Fuck, nooo!' Hutch yelled as he pushed himself back from the wall and bolted for the stairs. He took them three at a time, bouncing off the walls as he flung himself round corners. Going too fast to stop himself, he cannoned into the wall at the bottom of the stairwell with a tooth jarring smack before hauling open the door and running out into the street.

There was an unnatural silence outside. The small crowd who had gathered to watch the spectacle were hushed and the uniformed cops were pushing them back from the bloody body on the ground. Hutch ran over, skidding to a halt on his knees as he bent over Piraglia. He bent low, checking for signs of life. The drop was four stories and it would be a miracle if the flake still lived, and yet as Hutch hunkered down, slowly Piraglia opened one dazed eye. It gazed sightless, focused and them looked directly at the cop.

'They've gone' he whispered.

'What? What's gone? Ricardo, where's Starsky? What have you done with my partner? Piraglia……please.'

'Never…..had him……wouldn't believe……voices have stopped…….s'good.' With a final sigh, Ricardo Piraglia's struggle with insanity finally ceased and as Hutch's mouth dried, the blond cop realised that he was going to get no more information from his one and only lead.

Pushing himself to his feet, the blond staggered backwards and looked around. Perry was standing a few feet away and the older Sergeant saw the look of hopelessness in Hutch's eyes.

'You did everything you could.'

'Did I?' Hutch snapped bitterly. 'Everythin' 'cept find Starsk.'

'Let me get someone to drive you home' Perry said. Hutch looked pale and swayed dangerously on his feet, the adrenaline having left him so suddenly that he was faint and light headed.

'I can't rest. Starsky's still missin' Hutch muttered. 'I need to check the turkey's apartment. I'll be fine.'

'Then let me come with you' the older man said gently.

'Whatever.' Hutch staggered back from the body as the ambulance men got to work on covering Piraglia's remains. Together, Hutch and Perry made their way back into the motel and up to the grimy apartment. Pushing the door open, Hutch walked inside as though he were inside a nightmare. The place was small, only three rooms in total and in the main room which acted as bedroom and sitting room, the budgie's cage door stood open and the little bird's lifeless body lay on the sandpaper floor of the cage, its neck broken.

Hutch looked around in awe. Every one of the walls had been written on in large, thick black marker pen. Over and over again, Piraglia had written the same words, as though trying to hammer home a point.

IT WASN'T ME. I DIDN'T DO IT. IT WASN'T ME.

Hutch staggered backwards as though the words had hit him like a physical blow. He sat down heavily on one of the chairs and stared at the walls. Behind him, Perry too was stunned.

'I guess he really didn't have Starsky' Perry said quietly.

'If he didn't, then who the hell does?' Hutch mumbled. Head in his hands, the blond closed his eyes and blotted out the room. _C'mon partner. Gimme a sign here huh?_


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Hutch let himself into his house without bothering to switch the light on. In the semi darkness, he negotiated his furniture to the kitchen with practised ease and took a bottle of beer from the fridge. Popping the cap, he took a long, deep chug of the icy brown liquid and closed his eyes as it left a satin soft trail down his throat, his mind, for a moment pleasantly blank.

It didn't stay that way for very long, however and as the blond cop stared morosely into the darkness, the beer didn't seem to take away any of his troubles. Dark thoughts of Starsky injured or worse and alone whirled around his head like a dervish on a holy day – thoughts that Hutch had tried to keep at bay whilst the possibility of information from Piraglia had been on the cards. Now there was just a sickening blackness filling his stomach – a knowledge that he'd been on a wild goose chase, reading signs that weren't there because he wanted to see them. His desperation to find his partner and his love for the smaller man had clouded his judgement and cast aside his years of police training. Investigation 101 – take out the emotion and you're left with the truth. Hutch had ignored that basic rule and now he and Starsky were paying for it. Damn!

With a grunt, Hutch rummaged in the back of his cupboard seeking something else to take away the sourness in his stomach and the self recrimination in his head. His hand closed on something hard and cold and brought out a bottle of brandy, unopened and slightly dusty. It was a left over from the days when he was with Van and he could still remember the recipe for the perfect Brandy Alexander. Right now though, cream and sugar were the last things on his mind. Hutch opened the bottle and without bothering to find a glass, he put the bottle neck to his lips and let the fiery liquid pour a blazing trail down his throat.

With the fire of the hard liquor came some clarity. The clarity however only intensified the feeling that for the past couple of days, Hutch had been wasting valuable time chasing the wrong guy. The look of shear apathy in Ricardo Piraglia's eyes and the state of the flake's apartment told Hutch all he needed to know. Piraglia was crazy – officially and irreversibly crazy, but he wasn't the one who'd taken Starsky. Whatever had gone on in the past between Starsky and the man, Piraglia had neither the wits nor wherewithal to take a fit, athletic man like Dave Starsky without a fight and without any sign of a struggle.

Hutch sat down on his sofa with a curse and put his head in his hands. Two days. Two fuckin' days wasted. Two days longer of Starsky being missing; two days more of missing the stupid jokes, the slightly lop-sided grin, the curly hair and the easy banter. Two further days during which Hutch missed his buddy like the ocean misses the sand or the night misses the day. They were meant to be together; they were meant to be partners and Hutch knew he would always trust the brunet with his life, however long they worked together.

_You're my Pal Hutch. If we were cowboys, I'd give ya my boots._

Starsk!

_C'mon buddy, gimme a sign here. I wanna help. I wanna find ya!_

Hutch's ruminations were interrupted by the insistent ringing of his telephone. The blond lifted his head and stared at the instrument as though it were a serpent ready to strike. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't really want anything to do with the outside world and for a moment, Hutch considered leaving the phone to ring. He turned his back on the dumb phone and took another draught of brandy, the fumes from the bottle making his nose wrinkle.

Ring.

Ring.

The noise of the bell started to eat at him.

Ring.

It could be news – it could be Dobey telling him that he'd found Starsky.

Ring.

Or it could be the coroner's office, or the hospital……or the morgue. Whatever it was, it could be some news that would put an end to Hutch feeling like the end of the world was in sight and so finally he got himself off the sofa and picked up the receiver.

'Hutchinson' he said, his voice a flat monotone.

'Ken, is that you?'

Relieved that it was his sister and yet irked that once again there was no news of his partner, Hutch tried to calm his beating heart. 'Hey Sis. Sorry about earlier, I got an urgent call, and I had to go out.'

'Police business?'

'Kinda, yeah. What did you want to tell me? Something about Dad?'

There was a pause and then Hutch heard Karen take a deep breath. 'I know you and Dad have had a bad time recently….'

'Not bad at all – we just haven't spoken for three years. That's not bad, that's silence.' The blond tried unsuccessfully to keep the hurt from his voice.

'…… but there's something you need to hear Ken.'

'Uh huh?'

'Dad's been getting sick for a while and um…..well he's getting worse.'

'Is it fatal? Has he got cancer or something?' Hutch couldn't imagine the ramrod straight, well built Dr Hutchinson being sick. It didn't fit with the image of the controlling, dominating man Hutch remembered from his youth. His Dad had made it quite clear that when his only son passed up on a good medical career to become a cop he was somehow letting the family down. When Hutch took Starsky to meet the Hutchinsons, the brunet was met with cold civility and Hutch had been taken none too gently to one side to be told in no uncertain terms that mixed race, Jewish men from the wrong side of New York were not the sort of people the Hutchinsons associated with. Hutch had stood his ground and had tried to explain the friendship he had with Starsky, but Dr Hutchinson didn't want to listen, and if the doctor didn't listen, then neither did Mrs Hutchinson. In disgust Hutch had made his excuses, cut the visit short and had one final acrimonious telephone call with his Dad before severing contact with the older man. Both Hutch and Dr Hutchinson were too proud to back down and make the first move and so for three long years the argument had festered between them until it had developed into a black, wide cavern which neither man thought they would ever be able to close.

'No, nothing like that Ken. In a way it's worse.' There was a slight break in Karen's voice and Hutch wanted instantly to hug his younger sister and tell her that everything was going to be ok. Instead his voice softened and he held the phone tighter.

'Tell me.'

'It started a couple of years ago and at first we didn't think anything was too wrong. I mean Dad was always a workaholic and sometimes he didn't come home for a couple of days when he was engrossed in his research, but he started staying at his clinic later and later and coming home to talk about his research.'

'Well that'd piss Mom off. No more cocktail parties for her to organise and no more gold to dig.'

'Ken!'

'Sorry…..go on. You said he told you about his work – that's a first. Old man Hutchinson always played his research close to his chest. I think he didn't trust anyone – even his family in case they gave his little secrets away.'

'Well however he used to be, he changed. He started to get obsessed with his work to the extent that his nurses and technical staff started to leave. He went from stickler for protocol to monster. He shouted at them and accused them of selling his work to the highest bidder and they started to complain that he was asking the impossible of them. Pretty soon, Dad had to hire more help and then the clinic started to get into financial difficulty. He still worked 48 hours at a stretch, but he clammed up – wouldn't tell us what he was working on – only that it would make him famous. Mom tried her hardest to cope, but Dad had all the accounts in his name. It came to a head one day when Mom went out to get the groceries and three of her credit cards were refused.'

'My God! Why didn't you tell me?'

'You couldn't have done anything. Mom was in denial and Dad was getting more and more obsessed with his research. He told us nothing other than that he was close to a breakthrough and that he'd be rolling in money when his new wonder drug was released.'

'And has it been? I mean, there is a drug he's working on, is there? It's not just a figment of his imagination? Has anyone tried to help him – I mean real, medical help?'

Karen sighed again. 'He told us he was fine. We tried to get his friend Alan, you know, the psychiatrist from Baltimore to see him, but Dad wouldn't talk to him.'

'So where is he now? I mean, I'd come home to help, but right now St…I have a missing person to trace.'

'Make that two Ken.'

It was Hutch's turn to hitch a breath. 'How's that?'

'Dad has been missing now for about two weeks. We don't know where he is. The cops here are worse than useless. I wanted to tell you sooner, but Mom wouldn't hear of it. Their theory is that Dad has gone away with a women somewhere and that he'll come back when he's good and ready.'

'And what do you think?'

'You know Dad Ken. Much as I know you've had your differences, you know he's always been faithful to Mom. They're like two peas in a pod – they've always been inseparable. Why would he take off and leave with some other woman huh?'

Hutch nodded to himself. His Mom and Dad were inseparable – sickeningly so. It had been a long standing joke with Karen that you couldn't get a cigarette paper between them, they were so close.

'What do you want me to do?' the blond asked.

'Help me. Help me to find him……please?'

Hutch sighed deeply. Peachy! Any other time he would have instantly cast his differences with his Dad aside if not for Dr Hutchinson then for his sister who he loved dearly. But with Starsky still missing and with no clues in sight…..

'Karen I'd love to help, you know I would, but…..'

'I thought you were bigger than that Ken. I thought you of all people would be able to…..'

'No Karen. Honey you don't understand. It's not that I won't help, its just that I can't. Right now Starsky is missing. He has been for some time and I need to find him.'

'And he means more to you than your own father?'

'Yes.' The words were out of his mouth before Hutch had time to consider, but it was the truth. In a way, the curly haired brunet meant more to him than his Mom and Dad put together. Starsky was the one who was always there for him, not matter what and that was in stark contrast to Hutch's parents who had farmed him out to either the maid or his Grandfathers while they travelled the country promoting Dr Hutchinsons work. 'No, I mean……its complicated Karen. But what I can do is get one of the guys here to investigate. We have a good team and I can think of a couple of the guys who're better'n me at missing persons.'

'But you won't look for your own Dad yourself?'

Hutch closed his eyes, a wave of pain coursing through his head. 'It's not like you think Poochy. It's just…..'

'I know, Starsky means the world to you. I'm not stupid Ken, I know how close you are. I shouldn't have rung. Forget it, I'll let the cops here in Duluth deal with it.'

'Karen, I didn't mean…..'

'Leave it Ken. Find Starsky and then maybe you can help. I hope you find him safe and well. Bye.'

Hutch was left holding the phone and feeling like seven shades of a bastard. The choice was stark – find Starsky or find his Dad and for once, Hutch didn't want to choose. Despite his differences with his father, he was still his own flesh and blood and yet he never gave Hutch the friendship and affection that Starsky managed to do with just one wink of his indigo blue eye.

Feeling a headache starting to pound at the back of his eyes, Hutch replaced the receiver, padded barefoot into his bedroom and lay down on the bed without the energy to get undressed. The pillow felt soft beneath his head and the night time sounds from outside his open window lulled him into a sleep filled with dreams, memories and the desire to find the two men.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The hands were back on Starsky's body now, rousing him from his dark and soundless exile to the real world – or whatever the real world was. The brunet seemed to have spent so long trapped inside his powerless body reliving his memories that he was beginning to doubt what was real and what was happening inside his head. The memories were so real – three dimensional and remembered in full colour. He lived them as though they were happening to him again and for a moment, Starsky had doubts – were the hands real? Was he really bound and drugged on a hard metal operating table? Or was he losing his mind?

The hands continued their insidious work. The cop felt his stomach start to fill with the fluid pumped in it from the naso-gastric tube. Sometimes the madman who held him captive was a little too zealous. Sometimes his stomach would be filled to bursting, leaving Starsky with cramps and a horrible bloated feeling. At other times, his stomach growled with hunger and only the smallest amount of food was allowed.

Whilst his stomach might register the lack of food, Starsky's mouth was now so bone dry that he doubted he could have swallowed even if he'd wanted to. The tube in his throat protruded through his lips, depressing his tongue onto the bottom of his mouth, welding it there. There was no way he could move it and therefore no way he could swill any moisture round his parched and cracked lips – discomfort number one.

Discomfort number two usually came about an hour after the feeding ritual. The fluid would pass through his system and eventually make its way to Starsky's bladder. Plugged at that end too by the catheter, he was at the mercy of his captor to empty the bag regularly – something the madman seemed singularly inept at doing. On those occasions, the cop's lower abdomen would swell alarmingly causing griping pains and an urgent need to pass water. On those occasions, even Starsky's memories could not distract him from the tortuous sensation.

Thankfully, on this occasion, the hands moved lower and Starsky flinched inwardly as he felt the hands on the centre of his body. There was a tugging sensation, the feeling of relief and then more tugging and the emptied bag was back in place. This time, though, the hands stayed a little longer than was absolutely necessary on the centre of his body and Starsky's flesh crept at the thoughts of what the man could do to him in his helpless state. The hands were warm, almost practised in the way they handled him and yet at the same time, Starsky felt as though the touch was something more than an impersonal act.

In a desperate act of self preservation, Starsky's mind closed out the present and retreated once again into his memories and to a time when he had first met the man he hoped would soon find him and save him from further maltreatment.

_David lay on his bed in his small room after his first day at the detention centre. His mind went over what had gone on and he thought a lot about the flaxen haired boy he'd met, the easy smile and the awkward, yet strangely compelling way Hutch spoke and acted. David made friends easily. Usually they were the wrong sort of friends as the curly haired boy tried desperately to have a sense of belonging ripped from him by his relocation to California, but at least he could make friends. He had the impression however that Hutch found contact with others his own age a challenge. David could imagine that whilst Hutch's golden good looks and surfer-dude blond hair would go down well with the girls, boys would find the tall, Nordic boy a challenge. There was something about him however that left David feeling he'd like to get to know Hutch better._

_The brunet was just settling down on his bed to sleep when there was a surreptitious knock at his window. He sat up in bed, wondering if he'd dreamed it when the knock came again, accompanied by a hissed "Dave…."_

_David flung back the sheets and padded to the window to draw back the curtains. Surprised, he saw Hutch's blond face peering in and a moment later, the blond boy did something to the catch on the window and it opened wide letting in the cool mountain air._

'_What the…..?'_

_Hutch grinned. 'We have a date at the bbbarn……unless you're tired?'_

'_There's girls?'_

'_Uh huh.'_

'_I'm never to tired for chicks. Gimme a minute to put some jeans on.'_

'_Put the pillow lengthways on bed and cover it with the sheets' Hutch advised. 'That way when they come to check on you they'll see something in the bed.'_

_David winked, did as he was told, pulled on the uniform jeans and top and within a minute was climbing out of the window. He pushed it closed behind him and grinned at his new friend. 'How'd ya do that? The windows are all locked.'_

_Hutch winked back and patted the side of his nose with his forefinger. 'I have my ways' he said conspiratorially. 'C'mon, they'll be waitin'.'_

_David followed Hutch as they made their way away from the dormitory and through the shadows of the trees to a large barn on the outskirts of the complex. Hutch was surefooted and seemed to know exactly where he was going and David prodded him on the shoulder. _

'_Why do I get the feelin' you've done this before?'_

'_Hey, a guy has to get some entertainment when he can. I mean don't get me wrong. I love the great outdoors but there's camping and then there's……this. Stalagluft 21! Without Toni and Candice I'd have gone nuts weeks ago.'_

'_Jenny and…. Wow. Here's me thinkin' that Blondie is the all American boy next door type that goes to church on Sundays and helps old ladies across the road.'_

'_I do all that! I just need some um…..relief along the way. Do you?'_

'_Need relief? Or the other stuff?'_

'_Both.'_

'_Well I'm not averse to helpin' old ladies. As for church….. Um, how d'ya feel about synagogues?'_

'_You Jewish?'_

'_Does it bother ya?' David's eyes took on a guarded look in the moonlight and he stopped walking as though challenging Hutch to say something._

_Hutch stopped to and shrugged his shoulders. 'Should it?'_

'_No.'_

'_Then it doesn't.'_

_David sighed. 'Glad that's out the way. You wouldn't believe the reaction I get from some guys.'_

'_I'm not some guys' Hutch said quietly._

'_No…..you're not' David agreed, equally quietly. There was something indefinable about Hutch that he found attractive, not in a "I want to get into your pants" type of way. It was more "I want to get to know you so much better". David had heard his Aunt talk about soul mates. She often said that she and Al were soul mates – they were meant to be together and they could almost read each others thoughts. At the time the boy had though it was a stupid idea, but now, standing in the dark with this blond haired boy from another world, David suddenly realised what Rosie had been talking about. Perhaps Hutch was David's soul mate._

_Shrugging off the soapy idea, David followed Hutch into the dark barn. It was a typical farm building, smelling of hay, animals and a touch of creosote to wrinkle the brunet's nostrils. Coming from the city as he did, David felt ill at ease in the huge empty space, but at one end he could just make out a small, quivering light, almost hidden, and the muffled sound of giggling._

_Without waiting, Hutch walked on up the barn, suddenly self confident and self assured. David followed, a little less sure of himself but as he rounded a tall wall made from hay bales, he smiled as he saw two girls snuggled down on a blanket on the ground._

'_Hutchy!' one of them exclaimed as she sat up and pulled a piece of hay from her long dark hair. In the candle light she looked no more than sixteen or seventeen with a fresh face devoid of makeup and a strong Californian accent. 'We thought you weren't gonna be here. You're late' she admonished._

_Dropping to his knees on the blanket, Hutch leaned forwards and kissed the girl on her lips. 'You can take it out on me later' he said with a smile. 'I brought a friend.'_

_The other girl looked up at David. She gave him one of those looks that started at his curly hair and finished at his sneakered feet and she obviously liked what she saw. 'You certainly have. C'mere handsome' she said, patting the blanket by her side._

'_Easy Candice. Don't scare him away!' her friend giggled. 'He looks good enough to eat.'_

_David blushed at the way the girls talked about him as though he wasn't there. It felt good and his teenage hormones jumped up and gave a small victory dance through his body, his jeans suddenly tenting as he fought for composure._

'_Hi, um….I'm Dave' he managed to mumble, suddenly shy._

'_Well hey Dave. I'm Candice and my horny little friend here is Toni. We usually have Hutchy to ourselves for the night, but for you we can make an exception.'_

_David cast a look sideways at his new buddy. 'Both of 'em?' he said with a raised eyebrow._

_It was Hutch's turn to blush and the blond sighed. 'It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it' he grinned as he led down on the blanket, propped on one elbow as Candice snuggled into his body, her hands already pulling at the buttons on his shirt._

'_I could um….take some of the pressure off ya buddy. I don't mind takin' one for the team' the brunet muttered as Toni pulled him down beside her._

'_Be my guest' Hutch managed to mumble past Candice's tongue which was ram-raiding its way into his mouth._

_The lovemaking was swift, as only teenage sex can be. David lay back as Toni expertly divested him of his shirt and then unzipped his jeans. Beside him and close enough that their shoulders touched, Hutch was also submitting meekly to Candice's ministrations and soon both boys lay in just their under pants, side by side, one girl straddling each of their middles._

_Gently and with much giggling Toni pulled the material of his pants away from the large bulge and the rod of flesh at David's middle sprung free so that she could grasp it in her hand. An electric shock jolted through David's body and he let out a low, husky groan as he closed his eyes. Beside him, Hutch too shivered._

'_Wow, big boy!' Toni muttered, her hand still wrapped around David's length. 'I thought Hutchy was big, but….'_

'_He is. I bet he's bigger' Candice giggled as she leaned over to take a better look._

'_Dunno, what d'ya think?'_

'_It's not a competition!' Hutch complained, wiggling to get some more attention. Suddenly he felt something tight around the centre of his body and he propped himself up on his elbows to see Candice with a piece of string she'd magiced from somewhere wrapped around his cock. She used a finger to measure and then passed it to Toni who repeated the procedure on David._

'_Hutch is thicker but David's longer' Toni said triumphantly. 'I said he was a big boy!'_

_The blond lunged for her and caught her around the waist. 'I said it wasn't a competition. You're gonna suffer for that!' Playfully he slapped her butt and Toni laughed and pushed herself away._

'_Are we gonna talk all night?' she asked._

'_I hope not' Hutch responded hungrily. 'I have to have Cinderella there back in his room in an hour before they discover he's missing.'_

'_Well in that case….' Toni shuffled off Hutch and curled herself around David, her hands wandering across the flat plain of his stomach and up to the hairs on his chest. 'I love bad boys' she whispered._

'_Who says I'm bad?' David responded, rearing up to gather the girl in his arms._

'_I need proof' she mumbled as his mouth closed over hers.'_

_oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo_

'_That was some night! You do that every night?' David said as he and the blond made their way from the barn back to the dormitories._

'_Pretty much. There's nothin' else to do around here and Toni and Candice don't complain.'_

'_And I thought you were a good wholesome country boy.'_

'_Appearances can be deceiving' Hutch snickered._

'_Uh huh. They sure can. Here's my window. Help me up to…. Damn! The stupid thing is closed and locked.'_

'_What?' Hutch rattled quietly at the window and ran his hands around the sill. 'Fuck!'_

'_That's an understatement. What now?'_

'_Now we use the back door' Hutch said and set off around the end of the long building. Half way up the other side, he paused by a large wooden door. The blond boy checked around like an expert burglar, took a step back and aimed at a specific spot on the door frame. Gently the wooden door creaked open a crack and Hutch stood back, obviously pleased with himself and held out an arm, pointing the way._

'_See you tomorrow night?' he whispered._

'_Sure thing buddy…..and Hutch?'_

'_Uh?'_

'_Thanks.'_

_Hutch waved away the thanks and watched as David slipped inside the dorm, pulling the door closed behind him. As Hutch walked off to the small house in the ground he shared with his Dad, David walked down the corridor, balancing on the balls of his feet to keep himself from making a noise. He was close to his room when a sound from behind him caused him to turn. Instinctively he pushed his back to the wall as he saw three older boys blocking his escape route._

'_Been dipping your wick newbie?'_

'_Huh?'_

'_Don't come the innocent. We saw ya with that blond bimbo sneakin' off to the girls. It's not allowed you know, 'specially not with Toni. She's my girl an' I don't like your sort messin' with her.'_

'_Hey, she was the one that did all the messin' David said in measured tones. 'if ya don't want anyone messin' with her, you should keep her on a leash.'_

'_So you did mess with her. Dirty little newbie. You need a lesson in manners' The boys took a step forward and before he knew it David was surrounded. Anger welled inside him. he'd been here before and one of the things growing up in Brooklyn had taught him was never to back down from a fight, even if he was outnumbered by older, stronger boys. With a sigh, David pushed himself off the wall and crouched, ready as the biggest boy came at him._


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Hutch's eyes closed and sleep overtook him. The worries of the past days sapped at his energy and despite fighting to keep open his eyes, the pull of dreamland was just too much. He shouldn't sleep. Not when Starsky was missing; not when his Dad was missing and yet the more the two thoughts whirled around his head, the more the whirlpool of dreams sucked him in until the real world faded away to be replaced by dreams of the first times his Dad and Starsky had met.

_Hutch walked slowly back to the small house he was sharing with his Dad, his body still warm and glowing from the aftermath of his sex in the barn. He'd been calling on Candice and Toni for well over a week now and although they never failed to leave him feeling satiated, nothing came close to the excitement of this night. Having his new buddy sharing the girls by his side seemed to intensify his enjoyment, David's low, husky moans and entreaties to Toni to carry on made Hutch quiver in excitement._

_The leaves rustled beneath his feet as he walked slowly through the cool night and as he got to the front porch of the house, the blond plunged his hands into his pocket, feeling something round, cold and hard. Pulling it from its hiding place, Hutch stared at the key, the key to David's room. The curly haired boy would be able to get back into the dormitory, but not back into his room without the key. Hutch had got him out through the window, but he'd taken the precaution of "borrowing" the key from the cabinet just in case. Cursing his thoughtlessness, Hutch turned and ran back towards the dormitories hoping to get to David before the guards found him._

_The bunkhouse was in darkness as Hutch approached – a good sign. If the guards had discovered David, there would have been light blazing down the corridor. Thanking his lucky stars that he'd gotten there in time, the blond hugged the wall of the long building, hiding in the shadows until he was sure there were no guards about. Cautiously he pushed open the door and insinuated himself into the dark corridor, his eyes rapidly adjusting to the dimness. He paused for a moment, listening for footfalls and was about to make his way around to David's room when he heard a muffled grunt and a whispered voice coming from around the corner._

_Another grunt, this time sounding more like a stifled scream of pain pierced the silence and set Hutch's teeth on edge and he pushed himself against the wall, ducking his head around the corner to see what was going on. The boys here for the most part were a rough and ready lot and Hutch had made it his business not to get too involved until David came along. David was different. He wasn't bad, he wasn't in the same mould as the others and yet he still had a wild quality to him that the blond found appealing…..and just a little sexy._

_The sight that met him in the corridor however took away his breath and for a moment he wondered what the hell he should do. His new friend David - the one he'd just spent two hours with in the barn - was on the floor surrounded by three of the older, bigger residents of the facility. They surrounded him as he lay on his side on the floor and as Hutch peeped round the corner he winced and hitched his breath as he saw a booted foot connect with David's side._

'_C'mon poodle head. Get up why don't ya? Had enough? Is that enough to keep you away from my girl?' the largest of the boys taunted the downed brunet who managed to look up, his face a mask of blood running from his mouth and a large cut above his eye._

_Remarkably David was still conscious and grinned painfully at his tormentors._

'_She wanted real sex. Not a pathetic poke from your weaner' he gasped, his hands wrapped around his middle._

'_You stupid fuckin' little bastard' the boy yelled and the three descended once again on their target, feet and fists flying. David, for his part, managed somehow to stagger to his feet, balanced on one of the crutches he used to aid his ankle. He stood with his back to the wall, swaying dizzily and brandishing the crutch before him like a weapon._

_Hutch was stuck on the horns of a dilemma. He had never been one to back away from a fight, especially if the fight was an uneven one, but he was also a realist and despite David's position, Hutch knew he'd be no better against three muscular boys than the brunet was. Needing to help, the blond cast about, trying to close out the sounds of pain from the fight so that he could think clearly. His hands balled into fists and he took a step forward, ready to join in the fight – ready to aid his friend and yet a small, quiet voice of reason stopped him. What good would he be if he too were splattered over the floor of the corridor? How would he be able to help David then?_

_A particularly vicious blow sent David to the floor again and this time, his body lay still as the punches and kicks rained down on him. A rib broke – the sound echoing down the hallway and Hutch's eyes fell on the fire bell behind its glass case. Swinging his elbow back, the blond aimed at the glass and elbowed it full force. The glass broke, cutting his elbow, but the blond hardly noticed as the clanging alarm filled the air. The boys froze mid swing and then the ringleader yelled "run" leaving their victim's body on the ground._

_Hutch ran to the body of his friend, terrified that he'd find it lifeless and as he carefully pulled on the brunet's shoulder in order to see his face, Hutch's heart almost stopped. David's face was a mass of cuts and bruises, blood flowing from a myriad of cuts. Further down, blood seeped through David's shirt and his left leg lay at an odd angle from his body. The curly haired boy's skin was clammy and pale and a bluish tinge surrounded his lips. There was little sign of life._

'_Dave?... Starsky. David….' Hutch knelt by the side of his friend, his hand hovering millimetres from the blood soaked face as the noise and commotion from the alarm bell continued around him. Time seemed to stand still. David's eyes fluttered open for a moment and there seemed to be recognition in them. Hutch fancied he saw the shadow of a smile lift the corner of the smashed mouth._

'_Heyyyyy' the brunet whispered._

'_Hey yourself. What the hell happened? No. no don't talk, I need to get help. I need to get my Dad.'_

_A look of fear flitted across the cut and bruised face. 'No! No….I.'_

'_You're hurt…..bad. You need help. I need to get Dad to fix you up.'_

'_He'll kill ya.'_

'_So?'_

'_So don't be……asshole. Go. Don't let him find ya here.'_

'_I'm not leaving you. I need to stay' Hutch hissed desperately, something about the injured boy playing fast and loose with his emotions. For a stupid, agonising, confusing moment, the blond felt as though he wanted to kiss David, his feeling of friendship so strong, and yet although the intimacy and closeness seemed right, the act seemed wrong._

_David groaned as he tried to get himself up into a sitting position. 'Need…..t'go. Hutch….buddy. Please……never forgive myself if……your Dad….'_

'_I can handle my Dad. I can't handle you bein' hurt.'_

_David's eyes opened and for a moment indigo fire smouldered behind them. His face cracked into a painful grin and he squeezed Hutch's hand hard. 'Just go…..come see me later huh?'_

'_When you've been seen to.' Hutch pushed David gently back so that he lay on the floor. 'I'll come see ya…..promise. I….I never had a friend like you.'_

_David's eyes were closing, his fight against his pains taking away his consciousness. 'Bloody soapy…..Hutch….inson. Hate ssssoapy…..don't…..my Pal Hutchhhhhh.'_

_Hutch saw a pair of booted feet by his side and he looked up into Henry's concerned face._

'_What the hell? David? What happened? What's gone on here? We need to get him out…..fire.'_

'_There's no fire' Hutch yelled above the clanging bell. 'I didn't know what else to do to stop them so I set the alarm off. He needs help. I need to get him to my Dad.'_

_Henry spoke into the walkie talkie he had on his belt and a moment later the claxon stopped its insistent shrieking. The silence that followed battered at Hutch's ears and for a moment he felt dizzy and sick. Not knowing what to do, or how to help, he grasped one of David's hands and held on as though he could force life back into the broken body._

_Henry was still talking and now he turned to Hutch. 'You're Doc Hutchinson's son aren't you? What are you doing here?'_

'_It doesn't matter. He needs help. David needs help.'_

'_It's on its way. Your Dad is on his way here right now son. David's gonna be ok, we'll see to that.'_

_Hutch looked up as he heard footfalls echoing down the silent hallway. David's words flew through his head – "Need t'go….your Dad…..never forgive…."_

_Cursing Hutch got up and took a hold of Henry's arm. 'You didn't see me here Henry. Please? Understand….you didn't see me.'_

_Henry saw the look in the crystal blue eyes and squeezed the boy's arm. He winked. 'Go. I'll deal with this. There's been enough trouble tonight.'_

_Thankfully, Hutch nodded his appreciation and as Dr Hutchinson came storming around the corner, Hutch managed to duck out, his back pressed against the wall as he listened – not yet willing to leave David totally alone._

_The doctor's voice boomed out as he knelt by the side of the stricken brunet. 'This is the Starsky boy. I knew he was trouble the minute I saw him. He's one of those damned boys you wish you could be alone with for a day. I'd teach him. He has too much spirit if you ask me. He needs it breaking. Help me get him to the clinic Henry. Damn it! Now I have to waste time on putting him back together. Shit, who'd have a job like this voluntarily huh?'_

_As the doctor's whinging got softer and finally disappeared, Hutch looked around. He needed revenge on the boys who'd beaten his friend and yet he wasn't stupid enough to take them on three on one. Instead, he thought for a moment, grinned to himself and ducked into his Father's office down the hallway._

_Rummaging through the files in the cabinet he pulled out the three he needed and thumbed open the buff coloured files, smiling to himself. In each of them, in a passable imitation of Dr Hutchinson's writing, he made a note for the male nurse on duty. John Duckworth, Gary Pearson and Wayne Woodward were all due full proctological examinations the next morning to be initiated with soap and water enemas._

Hutch woke himself with a start. The dream had been so vivid and yet it was a memory he hadn't thought about in such a long time. He and Starsky had been together so long that they were closer than brothers, closer than lovers. They were almost like conjoined twins. Kick one, the other limped and yet it had all started from those two days long ago.

Hutch never did see Starsky back at the facility again. His father somehow found out that Hutch had been with David and placed the brunet in solitary confinement in the clinic while he recovered. As for Hutch – within five hours of Dr Hutchinson discovering his son had been involved, Hutch was on the first plane back to Duluth in disgrace. The blond had been outraged but was powerless to do anything. That was the start of the breakdown of his relationship with his Dad and although fate wasn't to bring him and Starsky back together until the police academy, he'd never stopped thinking about the handsome hellcat with the chocolate coloured curls.

Something itched at Hutch's mind. Something seemed to be falling into place and yet the blond refused to believe it to begin with. Karen had told him his Dad had been sick. He'd started having delusions – he'd been working on a drug and he needed to test it on the strongest individual he could think of – someone with an indomitable spirit – someone he also had no good feelings for.

"_. He's one of those damned boys you wish you could be alone with for a day. I'd teach him. He has too much spirit if you ask me. He needs it breaking."_

And then Dr Hutchinson had disappeared at about the same time as Starsky.

Could it be?

Hutch shook his head, refusing to believe it and yet what had that old time English fictional detective Sherlock Holmes always said? Take away the outside factors and those you can disprove and whatever you are left with, however improbable it seems, you have got the answer.

With a dry mouth and with a shaking hand, Hutch flung away the sweat damp sheets and padded over to the phone. He needed to question his sister some more.

Hutch needed the truth.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Hutch looked at his watch. 4:45. Karen would surely be asleep and yet this couldn't wait – Hutch couldn't wait. The idea that his Dad was somehow involved in Starsky's disappearance seemed so outrageous that the flaxen haired cop could hardly believe it and yet all the pieces seemed to fit and his dream memories had left him with a conviction so unshakable that the blond felt compelled.

For years now, ever since Starsky and Hutch were paired as a detective partnership, Dr Hutchinson had been preaching that the brunet was bad news and that he would hold his son back. Once the good doctor had got over the fact that Hutch would never follow in his medical footsteps, Dr Hutchinson decided that Hutch would instead become the next Chief of Police. He encouraged Hutch to go for exam after exam. He delighted in the fact that his blond son graduated the Academy with the top marks for the year although he did not acknowledge that David Starsky was only three marks behind Hutch in graduation.

As Hutch's career progressed his Dad continued to push. "Why not become a detective? Why not go for your Sergeants exam? Why not become a Lieutenant?" Hutch had gone with some of the suggestions – it was after all his chosen career, but when the idea of Lieutenants exams were broached, he refused even to consider it. First Hutch considered it too early as he and Starsky hadn't been together a long time, and secondly, Starsky seemed happy doing what he did and that made Hutch happy. The blond made enough money to be comfortable. He had friends, an apartment next to the canal, girls when he wanted them and a partner who could read every twitch his body made. Life was good so why rock the boat?

Until the letters started to arrive, not to Hutch, but to Dobey, to Sanderson, Dobey's boss and then to the Chief of Police himself. Dobey had called Hutch into his office quietly and had shown the hand written letter from Dr Hutchinson. Basically it set out the fact that Hutch was well educated, well brought up, had the right connections and was wasted as a detective out on the street. The letter more or less ordered Dobey to promote Hutch and even went so far as to say that it may be worth the black Captain's while to do so.

Hutch had been furious and had snatched the phone, dialed his Father's number and had let the older Hutchinson have it with both barrels. Hutch told his Dad to keep his nose out of his business, that he was happy as he was and never to interfere in his career again. Dr Hutchinson, for his part, ignored every word and the letters continued until things came to a head, Hutch flew home and had the final argument with his Dad. He left Duluth under a cloud of acrimony and had not spoken properly to Dr Hutchinson for three whole years and consequently his Mother was silent too. Apparently, for each of those three years the doctor had blamed one David Michael Starsky for everything and had made no secret of that fact. All the pieces of the jigsaw seemed to fit. All Hutch needed now was confirmation…..unless his fevered imagination was running away with him and the poisonous things his Dad had said about Starsky had coloured the blond's view too much. Maybe Hutch was seeing what he wanted to see. Maybe the blond was clutching at straws. Only Karen would be able to point him in the right direction and right now, Hutch longed for his sister to pick up.

The phone rang away merrily, each ring leaving Hutch more on edge. He tapped the fingers of his free hand on the table edge.

_C'mon….c'mon Sissy. Pick up….._

And then the ringing stopped and a sleep thickened voice mumbled into the receiver at the other end.

'Marrissipio. Who is this? It's…..dammit, almost 5am'

'Joe, this is Ken. Can I speak to Karen?'

'Ken? What the……are you ok? Are you in trouble?' his brother in law's voice sounded concerned and yet at the same time Hutch wanted to yell at him that he was wasting time. Taking a deep breath, the blond tried to calm himself.

'I'm fine. Can I speak to my sister please?'

There was a pause and then a female voice came on the line, worry evident in her voice too. 'Ken? Are you ok? Have you found Dad?'

'No, but it's him I called about. Karen when did you see him last?'

'Twelve days ago.'

'And how was he? I mean, did he seem "normal"? Was he making sense? Did he mention any names, or where he might be heading?'

'Ken what's this all about? I told you he went missing, that's all I really know.'

Hutch closed his eyes praying for patience. 'I just need to know how he was…..whether he gave any clue as to where he was heading. Maybe if he was gonna meet someone?'

'I don't think so. He'd been acting weird for a while. He kept mumbling that no one would finance his research any more and that they'd be sorry when they found out just how good the drug was. He insisted he had to find some way to test it – some way to make the establishment understand how effective it was. He was obsessed with it. But as to where he was going, or whether he was going to meet anyone, I have no clue. He didn't say anything directly to me. Why? Do you think you can find him? Have you got some ideas where he might be?'

'Not really no. I haven't a clue where he might be, but I think that somehow his disappearance and Starskys are linked.'

There was a "tch" of disapproval down the line. 'Ken! I know you and Dad had your differences about Dave but for God's sake! He's a doctor. Doesn't the Hippocratic Oath mean anything to you? Dad swore to "first do no harm". He's not going to do anything to hurt anyone, let alone your partner. I don't understand how you can think that.'

Hutch sighed. 'I'm not thinkin' anythin' at the moment. This is just a hunch, but it's a major hunch and it all seems to fit. Think about it Karen. Dad wanted to try out a new drug he was developing on someone he knew was real strong – someone he knew would fight him all the way. He always said that Starsky was a force to be reckoned with, even if he didn't like him. He kinda admired how strong a character he is.'

'Ken, you're clutching at straws. Stop this right now.'

For a moment Hutch paused. Was he? Was he really clutching at straws? How could he tell his sister that he was accusing his own father of kidnap purely on the strength of a dream and his Dad's hatred of his partner? When he said it in his head even Hutch felt as though he were making a fool of himself. And yet….

'Karen, I just need to know. Did Dad give any clue as to where he might be thinking of going? Anything at all.'

'No, nothing. Mum said he went to bed with her as usual, he fell asleep, or seemed to and then she woke up a while later and he was gone. She thought he'd gone down to the kitchen for a drink but when he didn't come back to bed, she got up to look for him and found the front door open and Dad's car gone.'

'His car? Which one? Which did he take?' Hutch asked quietly.

'Um…it was the Mercedes, the silver one.'

'Can you find out for me honey? It's important. I can trace a car and if I can trace a car, I can find Dad and…. Well I can find Dad.'

'Don't you think the police here haven't done that already? They found it five days ago parked outside a motel room five hundred miles south of here. They're dusting it for prints and then they're gonna tow it back here.'

'South you say? He's driving south?'

Karen sounded distracted. 'Yes. It's a direction Ken, just like north east and west. You're clutching at straws again.'

'Maybe I am, but gimme the number of the detective on the case will ya Poochy? I need to speak to them.'

Karen gave another sigh and Hutch heard fumbling before the receiver picked up again and Karen read a number off to him. The blond noted it down on the back of a music magazine. 'Thanks Sis. As soon as I hear anythin' I'll ring you. Ok? I'll find him, I promise you.'

'Be careful Ken. And if you do find him and he's got…..well if your suspicions are correct, go easy on him. He's a sick man.'

Hutch grunted and put down the phone. For a long moment he sat staring at the number he'd written down feeling somehow better now that he had some kind of a lead…..even if it was maybe going to be a wild goose chase.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

A shudder ran through Starsky's body – the only sign that he was actually alive, other than the insidious wish swoosh of the respirator attached to the tube in his throat. A small bead of perspiration swelled on his forehead, to be joined by a companion a second later and a bleeper sounded its alarm into the silence of the room.

Starsky's dreams were interrupted by the changing status of his body. For an age now, ever since his kidnap and incarceration Starsky had felt all that was happening to his body. The drug injected into him left him paralysed and yet he could feel the hands on his body when the man changed his catheter, the hard metal table beneath his back, the sore spots at the base of his spine, heels, elbows and shoulders and the cool temperature of the room over his naked body. Try as he might he'd been unable to move more than the tip of his index finger for almost as long as he could remember. He longed to turn over onto his side, or to vary his position in some way because he felt as though his limbs were welded into place. They ached constantly. His back ached, his stomach ached when he'd been fed or when his catheter bag was full and now his head was aching.

The ache had started a while ago and was accompanied by heat. His body felt as though he were burning up under a hot Californian sun. Initially it had been almost pleasurable after the days of cold, and Starsky's dreams turned to days on the beach with Hutch and their latest girls. In his imagination he could almost feel the coarse grains of sand between his toes and hear the incessant sounds of the waves upon the shore. For a little while it was comforting and pleasant.

Pretty soon, however, the temperature seemed to have been turned up another 20 degrees. The memories of sun drenched beaches turned to thoughts of being trapped and lost out in the Mojave. His body which had relaxed marginally now tensed again as the aches turned to spiking, shooting pains lancing out from his chest into his limbs and the top of his head felt as though it would blow clean away.

Pleasant dreams turned to scary, painful dreams. He was being passed through rollers until his body was thin and stretched like taffy in a factory. A clown leered down at him, it's ghastly painted face inches from his own. In his mind, Starsky cried out, trying to back away from the painted apparition, but to the outside world nothing seemed to have changed other than the monitors by the bed showing an increased temperature and pulse rate.

The alarm sounded outside the room as Starsky's temperature spiked and the man cursed, put down his sandwich and got up from his chair. Carefully, he straightened his long white coat, brushed a few bread crumbs from the lapels and walked unhurriedly down the hallway to push open the door to the OR.

The man took one look at the readings on the monitors and cursed loud and hard.

Dammit! Just what he'd been afraid of. The drug was beginning to have that same adverse effect it had had on his other subjects. The monkeys had all fallen foul of the added pressure on their systems. Those that had survived the fevers never recovered their consciousness properly when he tried to bring them around. The last monkey – his favorite, Arthur – had seemed fine. He'd been a strong individual who'd withstood the fevers and the pains stoically. When he'd come around from the drug he'd almost seemed normal for a few second, until the man realised he could neither move nor breathe on his own. He'd thought he'd ironed out those last few problems and he'd rubbed his hands together when he'd got Starsky to the twelve day mark without any adverse effects on his body.

This temperature spike was irritating in the extreme and the man's anger spilled over. Pulling the wadding from Starsky's ears, he no longer hissed his words into the brunet's ear. In his anger, the man yelled at the paralysed cop in a cultured mid west accent.

'Stop fighting it! You're ruining everything, just like you always have done. I picked you because you were strong but you have to stop this now! It's that damned noble spirit again. I vowed once I'd break it and I will. You hear me? I'll not let you rob me of this. I'll break that spirit if it's the last thing I ever do!'


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_I'll break that spirit if it's the last thing I ever do! What the hell do you think you're playing at huh? You lead my son astray. I know your type, you'd do anything to get back at an authority figure like me. Did you think it'd be funny to lure my son away – to get him into trouble? Was that you little plan?' Dr Hutchinson's face was an unattractive purple colour as he walked alongside the gurney to the clinic at the end of the hallway._

_For his own part David lay exhausted on his back, his injuries covered by a single red blanket. He semi-heard the senior Hutchinson talk, but he only half understood what was being said. The one thing the brunet was glad about was that Hutch was nowhere in sight and whilst Dr Hutchinson had his suspicions that David had played fast and loose with his son, he had no actual proof._

_The gurney slowed, turned and finally stopped in the middle of the small care station, the room painted white, white tiled and with a bright white neon strip light overhead. The light stabbed at David's eyes and he groaned, turned onto his side and threw up over the doctor's shoes. Dr Hutchinson yelped and leapt backwards to avoid the puddle that formed._

'_Get him onto his side and get a dish for God's sake. Oh look at the mess. Jeez, he can't even keep his own stomach under control.' Hands caught hold of David and gently turned him onto his side as the doctor opened first one of his eyes and then another and shone his penlight into them._

'_Hmm.'_

_David licked his blood stained lips. 'Hmm?'_

'_You have a concussion for starters. From the looks of you I'm surprised you haven't cracked open your head. What is it with your type huh? I've seen so many of you in this place. You're just another no good gutter snipe that'll never make anything of himself. I don't know why I waste my time patching you up, you'll only waste some other doctors time in the future. I bet your Mom….'_

'_My Mom is the best in the world. Don't bring her into this. And my Dad was a cop' David fumed, unable to keep silent against the unfair assessment of himself and his family._

'_A cop huh? That's not exactly anything to be proud of. What does he do now? Retired on some made up disability pension I bet.'_

'H_e died in a drive by shootin' tryin' to defend some smart assed punk…' the "like you" hung on the air between them and for a moment David looked up into cold blue eyes._

_Dr Hutchinson said nothing more but began his assessment of David's injuries. His hands were strong and capable but at the same time were none too gentle as they poked and prodded at the blossoming bruises on David's back, chest and limbs._

'_Turn over' he commanded as he tugged at David's shirt 'and take this off.'_

_David struggled to sit up, a knife-like pain arcing through his chest. He gasped and bent double holding his left arm across his ribs._

'_Oh come on. Stop wasting my time!' the doctor muttered and took a hold of the hem of the shirt, pulling it roughly upwards. It revealed a dark blue bruise over the lower half of David's chest on the right hand side and several bleeding wounds across his spine and back. Wordlessly, Dr H started cleaning them with antiseptic as the nurse looked on and David squeezed his eyes closed against the stinging bite of the fluid. _

_By the end of an hour there was an eight inch loop of white tape holding David's chest together, small patches of tape and dressings across his back covering stitches in the deeper wounds and a fresh bandage on David's knuckles._

'_I don't need an x-ray to tell me your leg is broken. If I hadn't sworn not to do any harm I'd set it without any medication. However as I'm not allowed my two minutes of retaliation for you causing me this extra work, I'm going to give you a shot. When you wake up, your leg will be set and you'll have a plaster cast on it. You'll be off your feet for a week or so until it settles.'_

_The brunet managed a weak grin, his reserves of bravado almost at an end. 'You're all heart' he mumbled wearily and held out his arm for the needle. 'Do your worst.'_

_Dr Hutchinson filled a syringe with a clear liquid, wiped the crook of David's elbow with an alcohol wipe and injected the drug quickly. David slumped back onto the pillow, his eyes closing as the anaesthetic took effect and the Doctor got to work with a bad tempered grunt._

_A few hours later, David awoke slowly. It was going dark, the twilight filling the room with a gloomy light that was not alleviated by the silence. It wasn't his own room and the absence of the few possessions he'd brought with him left the brunet feeling ill at ease and uncomfortable._

_For a while, David lay on his back in the bed, knowing that when he started to move he would start to hurt again. For a few minutes all he wanted was the pleasure of lying back and dozing in that dim world between drug and wakefulness. The sensation did not last long, however, before questions started to raise themselves in his curly head. Where was Hutch? Had he got clean away? Why was David here and not back in his room? The boy managed to lift his head and look down the bed. The movement sent familiar pains through his damaged chest and David groaned quietly as he saw the white plaster cast covering his left leg from just below his knee to the tips of his toes. Fatalistically he shrugged. At least it was his left ankle that had broken. That was the one he'd injured falling off that damned bridge so at least he still had one good ankle._

_The curly haired lad looked around his new room. It was functional, white and almost devoid of furniture, the main item being the bed. There were no pictures on the wall, no cupboards and the window opposite was small and adorned not with curtains, but with bars. Looking at the door, David also saw that there was no handle on the inside of the door and realization hit that this was a type of prison room and not designed for his comfort._

_A feeling of loneliness and self pit welled up inside David's chest. He'd never been one to feel sorry for himself, it wasn't in his nature, but everyone has their breaking points and David had just reached his. He felt the prick of tears behind his eyes and blinked angrily._

_No one loved him. That was the top and bottom of it. No one loved him and no one wanted him. First, his Dad had gone and left him albeit in an involuntary way. He'd tired so hard as a thirteen year old to suddenly become the man of the house. He'd tried to take charge of Nicky, but his younger brother was going off the rails fast and even at the tender age of 9 was becoming well known by the cops in their local area. His Mom spent her night crying in her room and although they never spoke about it, she knew her eldest son heard her. Rachel Starsky was a strong woman but she was only human and to be made a widow at the age of 39 was a cruel turn of fate. She had barely enough energy to keep herself together without worrying about her son's emotional welfare._

_David longed to belong. He needed love and affection, not in a smalmy "all over him" way. He needed the natural love that parents should provide for their children and when he couldn't get that affection from his Mom, the young David looked elsewhere for a feeling of belonging. He found that with the gang he hung around with. It didn't really matter that they were on the fringes of the criminal element. In the gang he found a sense of belonging he couldn't get elsewhere._

_When things became too hot in the gang and he was caught by the cops one night aiding a burglary, his Mom despaired, phoned her sister and within 48 hours a protesting David was bundled onto a train and sent a thousand miles away to California._

_Al and Rosey were kind. Al tried his best to be the authority figure that he felt David needed when really all the curly haired boy wanted was love and affection. Once again, he sought it with the local gangs and once again, he'd fallen foul of their games._

_David felt his Mom had rejected him, Al and Rosey had rejected him and John Blaine, his most trusted friend had also rejected him and left him here as a punishment. That stung most of all. He trusted John. John and Nancy had taken him under their wings and had semi-adopted him and now he felt that rejection more keenly than any other. John had lied to him, had driven him up here and had left him at the mercy of a mad doctor and a bunch of flakes who loved to beat up on the new boy._

_No one loved him. No one wanted him any more. Why bother?_

_One, loud wracking sob escaped him and David turned his head to the pillow and buried himself in it, wanted and needing to escape his dark thoughts. So consumed in his misery was he that he didn't hear the door open softly and close behind him. It wasn't until he felt a hand on his shoulder that David realised that he was no longer alone and he sniffed loudly, wiped the back of his hand over his eyes and looked up into Henry's concerned face._

'_Let it out David, you'll feel better if you do.'_

_David took the white hanky that Henry held out and wiped his eyes, almost angry that someone had seen him break down._

'_I'm fine' he said quickly._

'_Have you got a lot of pain?'_

'_Some, but it's nuthin I can't handle.'_

_Henry sat down on the edge of the bed. 'Don't do this David, you need to let someone in once in a while.'_

'_Why?'_

'_Because you can't go through life being an island. Let people help you, let them in.'_

'_No.' the word came out with such vehemence that it shocked both Henry and David._

'_Why?'_

_For a moment David paused. Let people in? Including Henry? He looked up at the tall man's open honest face. There was something about him that invited conversation. Henry sat quietly, composed, relaxed, but the expression on his face told David that he longed to hear what the boy needed to say. The brunet took a breath._

'_Coz everyone goes away.'_

'_Is that what you really think? Who went away David? Tell me.'_

'_My Dad. He was my hero an' he got himself killed, then Mom sent me away from New York to live with Al and Rosey.'_

'_Do you like them?'_

'_Al and Rosey? They're ok. They're ancient an' they don't understand me, but they're ok. I met John while I lived with them.'_

'_Who's John?' Henry asked gently._

'_The guy who brought me here.' There was a note of bitterness in David's voice and Henry put out a steadying hand._

'_Are you angry at him?'_

'_Angry? Yeah. That's an understatement. He didn't need to bring me here an' leave me. Shit I don't even know how long I'm supposed to be here. The only thing that made this place bearable was…..' David bit back the word "Hutch" not wanting to give away his new friend._

'_You made friends with Ken.'_

_The brunet looked up sharply and Henry held his hand up. 'S'ok. Your secret is safe with me, I won't tell a soul. Promise.'_

'_Where is he? Where's Hutch. I need to see him. It was Hutch who managed to get the other three off of me.'_

'_I'm sorry David.'_

'_Sorry? What for? What's happened?'_

'_David, you have to understand that there are lots of different kinds of people in this world and…..'_

'_He's gone, isn't he? Hutch has gone too. See – everyone leaves. Everyone goes away.'_

'_It wasn't his fault. His Father found out what had gone on and um…well he packed Ken off back home on the first plane of the day. I'm sorry David, truly I am.'_

'_Yeah, right.' David's heart plunged once again to his feet. He was alone once again, just like always._

'_Ken managed to give me this to give you. His Dad doesn't know about it. Here.' Henry held out a crumpled piece of paper and David took it and opened it out, smoothing out the creases. It was from Hutch and was written in his spidery handwriting._

_Starsky. My friend. _

_I have to go, my Dad has found out what I've been doing._

_I don't want to go, not now I've found a friend in you._

_I felt we could be great together – a true partnership._

_I'm angry at Dad, but I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye._

_I will try to find you, I promise. True friendship never dies._

_Don't forget me, you're my Pal._

_Hutch._

_David read the letter twice more. The feelings it engendered ranged from sadness to an overwhelming feeling of wanting to be with those he knew once more. True friendship never dies. If that was true, he needed to put it to the test and feel a feeling of belonging once again. He was tired of going it alone._

'_Can I make a phone call?' David asked. 'Just one.'_

_Henry looked around. 'The doctor wanted you in solitary for a while, but….let me go get the phone for you. Hold on.' The lanky man walked out of the room and returned moments later with a payphone on wheels. He plugged it into the wall and handed David a coin and the receiver. Gratefully, David took it and dialed a number he knew well, pausing until it picked up at the other end._

'_John? It's me David. I'm sorry. I know what I did was wrong. Can I come home now…..please?'_


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Hutch put down the phone and cursed. Damned stupid Duluth cops! They hadn't the first clue or if they did they just weren't interested in missing persons. After speaking to a bored sounding Sergeant in the department at Duluth Central, Hutch gleaned the fact that the sum total of the police's efforts had been to put out an APB on Dr Hutchinson and issue a description of the man and the car he'd been driving. Having found 50 percent of their quarry – the car – they seemed to have sat back on their laurels and moved on to the next job.

Two weeks! Two weeks and all they'd found was the Mercedes. They hadn't even searched it properly – just brought it back home and delivered it onto the Hutchinson's driveway.

The blond thought for a moment, the dreams he'd had previously still haunting him as though Starsky were somehow trying to communicate with him. It gave Hutch a measure of comfort to think that the brunet was still alive somewhere, but the conviction that both Starsky's and his Dads disappearances were intertwined grew by the hour.

Picking up the phone again, Hutch called his sister back. The phone picked up on the second ring and Karen's voice sounded down the line.

'Karen, did the cops find anything in the car?'

'Like what? They brought it back and it was white with that awful fingerprint powder, but they didn't say they'd found anything other than Dad's prints.'

Hutch sighed. Why print a car that was known to have been driven by the rightful owner? Stupid, stupid cops. Carefully he framed the next request. 'Poochy, I know this is gonna be tough for you, but I need you to do something for me. It would take too much time for me to fly up to Duluth, especially as Dad was heading south. I want you to go through the car and find anything Dad left in it, and then I want you to go through his desk and his clothes. Can you do that for me?'

'What am I looking for?'

'Anything. Anything that might give me a lead. A match book; a cloakroom ticket; a scrap of paper with a number or an address on. Anything you think seems out of the ordinary.'

Karen's voice took on a determined air. 'Ok. Gimme an hour huh? I'll call you back as soon as I've done it.'

'Good girl. I'll be waiting' Hutch smiled down the phone. He replaced the receiver and sat for a moment regrouping his thoughts. Time seemed to stand still, the clock in his apartment ticking loudly to fill the emptiness. Desperate to fill the time, the blond got up and made a cup of coffee. He sniffed the familiar aroma and put the cup to his lips but couldn't drink. He felt as though there was a huge lump in his throat past which nothing could flow and with another curse, he put the cup on the draining board and sat down again.

The ringing of the phone made him jump and Hutch looked at his watch. It had only been 45 minutes, but Karen was always a smart cookie. He answered the call and sat down on the arm of his sofa as Karen went through what she'd found. There had been nothing much in the car other than a receipt from the motel Dad had obviously stayed in the night before he abandoned the car. Other than that, Karen found nothing except for one faxed copy of a receipt from Nesbitt and Nesbitt realtors in Bay City.

Karen read out the information on the receipt to Hutch who noted it down with a shaking hand. Karen had hit pay dirt and the note was a the deposit of one hundred dollars on a large apartment on the outskirts of the city, up in the hills. The address was on the receipt and for the first time in a long time Hutch felt a thrill of having a lead to work with.

'You did good Sis. I'm gonna check this out right now As soon as I know anythin' I'll ring. Don't worry, we're gonna get through this, ok?'

'Ken? If you find Dad…..' Karen paused, not knowing what to say. '…..be…..careful with him. He's sick. He's a sick man. He needs help.'

Hutch grunted down the phone. 'I'll do what I need to do honey……but I'll be careful. Ok? See ya soon.'

Putting down the phone, Hutch gathered together his jacket, shield, cuffs and gun, grabbed his car keys and bounded down the steps from his apartment three at a time. He vaulted over the hood of his car, got into the drivers seat and gunned the engine, the door swinging closed on its own as the blond set of in a screech of tires that would have been a credit to his partner. He drove quickly but steadily through the morning traffic. It was 11:00am and the sun was high and steaming down from a cloudless cerulean blue sky. On any other day Hutch would have loved to have got out his old backpack, laced on his boots and headed for the hills to walk through the cooler forests up there. This time, as he drove out of the city, his mind was not on walking, but his brunet partner and the man he knew as Dad but who had grown to be a stranger to him.

The road swung up through a series of bends as the city dropped away behind him. The place his Dad had rented was a way out of the city – a luxury pine lodge set in half an acre of woodland and with it's own small lake. Hutch snickered. Even if Dr Hutchinson was running away, he liked to do things in comfort! Most men would head for the cheapest motel going, but not his dad. Only the finest things in life were enough for Dr H.

The flaxen haired cop would have enjoyed the drive if it had not been for the purpose behind it. There was something about the road that seemed familiar although he could not remember driving this way before, at least not in the past few years. It was like a strong feeling of deja vue and grew stronger as the car drove further on the quiet road. Eventually Hutch found the turn off to the lodge and swung the car through the gated entrance and up the tree fringed, shady driveway to the house. It was large, imposing in a rustic kind of way but was no ordinary forest shack. One whole wall, facing the lake was glazed, giving glorious views out onto the water and the forest behind. Hutch however was not interested in the view. He walked cautiously up the steps to the lodge and peeped in through one of the windows. He saw a large, well proportioned room, set out in ski lodge style with a central fireplace and comfortable sofas on either side. The room showed no signs of life and Hutch tried the front door. Amazingly it was open.

'Dad?' he said loudly into the hallway. 'Anybody? Anyone home?'

There was no answer but as Hutch went into the kitchen he saw dirty dishes on the sink and a carton of milk on top of the fridge – signs of life. Exploring further though, the cop realised that the dishes and the milk were at least a week old if not longer. The milk had turned into a solid lump in the bottom of the carton and the residue of the last meal had solidified onto the plates on the sink. Dr Hutchinson may have been here, but he hadn't called back in some time.

Hutch wandered back into the hallway and looked around. There was his Dad's coat on the hall stand and his briefcase on the floor next to it, but the pockets of the coat and the case itself were empty.

'Fuck!' Hutch snarled into the silence. 'C'mon Dad, where the hell are ya? And what have you done with Starsky?' The blond sat down on the bottom step of the staircase and put his head in his hands. What now? What was he missing? What hadn't he seen? The thoughts nagged at him. There was something he was meant to see, he was sure of it. Years of investigating crime scenes had given him a sixth sense about these things and he often felt this way when he was missing a vital clue. It was a kind of itch in the pit of his stomach, and it was rarely wrong.

Taking a deep breath, Hutch closed his eyes for a long minute, composing himself. Slowly, he opened them again and looked around as though with fresh eyes. The hallway looked the same. The coat on the stand, the briefcase on the floor, the muddy footprint on the….. Wait! Footprint! Why hadn't he seen that before?

Hutch got down on his hands and knees and examined the print. In itself it was nothing unusual. It was around the right size for his Dad's shoe and the right sort of sole print and it was red.

Why did the colour of the print seem so important to him? The dirt was a deep reddish brown, uncommon in these parts, although he had seen it once before, Hutch was sure of that, if only he could think where.

_C'mon Hutchy…think. Red dirt. The road……its familiar. When did you come this way before? When did you see red dirt before? It was….it was…..dammit! Think!_

The blond paced the hallway wracking his brains to try to remember why the two pieces of seemingly unconnected information should ring so many warning bells in his head. Red dirt. The road. A long, winding drive through trees. He was younger – much younger and he was with his Dad.

'_How much further?'_

'_Not long now son. See how different it is here. Even the dirt's a different colour to home.'_

'_Yeah, yeah. Great. Are there any chicks at this place?'_

'_I don't want you mixing with the residents Kenneth. They're not your type and they'll be a bad influence on you. Stay away from them and we'll both get through this crummy job as best we can.'_

That was it! The long drive from LAX up into the hills. Hutch had been 16, like in his dream. They'd driven to the correctional facility. The dirt around it was red.

Oh

My

God!

Did his father really do this? Had he gone back to the place where he'd first had the idea for a drug to keep criminals docile? The slow insanity – the talk of a wonder drug – the longing for fame – and maybe the need for a test subject. It al seemed to fall into place and yet Hutch's mind refused to believe it. Even Dr Hutchinson wouldn't stoop to that….would he?

Racing back to the car, Hutch once more started the engine, threw the big vehicle into a slewing arc and sped back down the deserted driveway and out onto the road once more. It seemed almost familiar in that annoying way memory has of playing tricks. Hutch never knew quite what was around the next bend and yet he knew there was something there and as the car climbed higher, the feelings grew more intense. This was it. This was the place where the facility had been and as he fling the car around the last bend, the place came into view.

It was a sad reflection of the place it had once been. The windows were boarded up, the gate padlocked and weeds grew through the cracks in the paving stones and forced their way up through the concrete driveway. Hutch shuddered at the memory of the place and got out of the car to rattle the padlock on the high metal gate. It was locked and seemed sturdy, the mechanism stiff and rusting. No-one had opened that in years.

Exploring further, Hutch prowled around the wire netting perimeter looking for a way in. It wasn't until he walked about two hundred yards and was beginning to think he was barking up the wrong tree when he saw a hole cut neatly into the wire. Ducking through it, Hutch crouched and ran towards the large, long, low building that had once been the boys dormitory and hospital wing.

The clapboard had faded and was falling away from the frame of the building in parts, the paint long since faded and peeling. The building had a melancholy air about it like an old relative who had long since been forgotten by her family. The windows were boarded up and as Hutch cautiously walked around to the end of the building he saw a doorway – the same one he'd used all those years ago to rescue his new found friend.

The blond put his hand on the sun warmed wood and pushed on the door. It creaked and gave under his hand, giving onto a dim hallway festooned with cobwebs and coated in dust. The dust, however held the imprints of shoes within it and Hutch's heart leapt into his mouth. He was close…..very close.

Hugging the shadows, the blond quietly made his way down the corridor towards a room at the bottom which had a door standing ajar. Inside it, there as some light and it looked as though it may be in use. This was the way to the hospital wing and as Hutch got closer, his ears picked up a steady, regular beeping sound coming from a room to the side. It seemed a familiar sort of sound and softly Hutch pushed open the door leading onto a fully equipped and well used operating room. the bleep here was louder and the blond's breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell upon a naked and seemingly dead body on a table in the middle of the room.

The world seemed to fall away from Hutch and he felt dizzy and sick. For a moment his legs refused to move until he ordered them to and he rushed over to the limp form, bending over the familiar and yet delicate body.

Ignoring for a moment the myriad of machines surrounding him, Hutch's hand hovered millimetres above the familiar, handsome face.

'Starsk?' he breathed into the silence.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Time stood still. Time during which Hutch longed to cradle his partner's body and yet couldn't bring himself to touch Starsky. The brunet looked broken, fragile and was almost unrecognizable from the vital, virile man of only two weeks ago.

Laid out on the cold metal operating table, ribs showed clearly in a long, bony line down each side of his chest, the usually flat, toned, muscular plane of his abdomen now sunken, like a cave beneath his rib cage. Only the slow rise and fall of his chest showed any signs of life, the hose protruding from between dry and cracked, bleeding lips seeming like some kind of monster escaping from its human host. Sweat beaded on the once handsome face, a red, angry flush glowing on otherwise pale skin on Starsky's face marking a raging fever.

'Oh my god! Starsk. What the fuck? What's happened? What've they done to ya?' Hutch whispered, his eyes refusing to leave the crumbling body. His emotions ran riot – happiness at finally finding Starsky now arguing with anger and fear at the condition in which he found the brunet. If this was his Dad's work, and he now had little reason to doubt that, what could have possessed the elderly Hutchinson, and how could he have treated a fellow human being in such a way?

Starsky himself was also aware of a change. His senses having been cut off one by one, his skin had become hyper attuned to his surroundings. With no sight, hearing or speech, it was his only way of feeling what was going on around him and he sensed a presence, although it did not seem like the man who had kept him captive for all this time. This presence was friendly, calming and gave him a sense of release. There were no rough hands on his body, neither was there any poking or pulling at the various tubes invading him. For a moment his heart lurched, the beep on the heart monitor suddenly speeding up.

Was it?

Could it be?

Oh my God – Hutch?

In desperation, the brunet tried with every sinew in his body to move and to somehow let his blond partner know that he was alive and was still aware of what was going on. In his imagination, Starsky sat up and in an unusually soapy display flung his arms around Hutch's broad shoulders and bear hugged him for long minutes allowing his friend's vitality to seep into his own body and rejuvenate him. In reality the very tip of his left index finger twitched – the only sign that he was still "at home".

As Hutch continued to look around at the various drips and machines obviously supporting Starsky's life, wondering if he dare disconnect any of them, the blond was startled to hear footsteps down the corridor. For long minutes he had been alone with his buddy, relieved that he had found him, shocked at the state he was in, and wondering what to do next. Starsky's eyes were covered with some kind of gel packs. That seemed reasonable – if the brunet was unconscious they would protect his eyes, but what made Hutch steaming mad was the cotton rammed into both his buddy's ears, effectively deafening him. Gently Hutch leaned in and pulled out the wadding. He bent, leaning close to Starsky's ear.

'Starsk….it's me, Hutch. Can ya hear me buddy? Can you gimme a sign? I'm so sorry Starsk…..so…..'

The bleep on the heart rate monitor picked up and sounded a rapid staccato beat and Hutch nodded, relief flooding his being. 'I hear ya Starsk, I hear ya. I'm gonna get you outa here, just as soon as I can……I promise. Gonna go and call the……'

The door to the OR opened and framed in the light from the hallway Dr Hutchinson stood, hair wild, creased white coat open at the front and the remains of his lunch littering the front of his shirt. He presented the picture of the archetypal mad professor and Hutch regarded him angrily.

'What have you done?' the blond hissed in barely suppressed rage.

'Kenneth! How did you find me? Never mind son. I'm so glad you're here' Dr H said, his face creasing into a smile of joy. He walked into the room, his arms outstretched as though to embrace his boy. Hutch took an involuntary step back, suddenly unsure.

This was not the Dad he had grown to hate over the years. That Dr Hutchinson had been something of a tyrant. He was super confident, ice water rather than blood flowing through his veins. He spent his life in the search of medical perfection, never happier than when he was engrossed in some new research. Being a medical doctor and talking to patients was boring – too much like hard work – although that was the part of the job that brought in the big bucks and financed his movie star life style. That Dr Hutchinson was cold, ruthless, a stickler for detail and a social climber. The man in front of Hutch now presented as a slightly ditsy, grubby and crazy doctor, the kind usually found in childhood comics or black and white horror movies. Hutch was stunned, taken aback by his Dad's appearance and his demeanor.

'Kenneth? Kenneth, won't you say hello to your Father?'

Hutch's lips twitched involuntarily. He'd been ready to grind his Father into the ground when he found him and yet now, seeing this shadow of the man he'd grown up with, violence didn't seem right. Instead, Hutch ignored his Dad and concentrated on the body on the table.

'It's ok Starsk. I'm right here…..right here. I'm gonna get ya….gggget ya outa here. I need to gggo call an an an ambulance and….'

Starsky, his ears now unblocked heard Hutch's voice and the break in it, the stammer his friend always suffered when he was stressed suddenly very pronounced. And in the background, the man's voice. No – not just any man. The man of Starsky's dreams, or rather of his nightmares. Unbelievably it was Dr Hutchinson, Hutch's father who had done all this to him. The man who had always made little attempt to hide his contempt for the brunet had taken the ultimate step and turned Hutch's hated partner into some kind of laboratory experiment. And yet listening to the man prattle on happily at seeing his son again, Starsky could not be angry at Dr H. This was after all Hutch's Dad – a man who ultimately had Hutch's welfare at heart, even if he went about showing it in a ham fisted kind of way. Dr H represented what Starsky had had torn from him at an early age – an older male presence and someone who should be looked up to, someone who was there to mould and shape his son's life.

Hutch it seemed, had a different view of his Dad.

'Ken, look at what I did. This is the drug no one would listen to me about….this is it working…..'

Hutch ignored the older man, tuning his rambling out as he concentrated on his partner.

'Starsk. God I'm so sorry. I….I should never have let this happen. I should never have…..damn, I need to get help. I need to get the ambulance…..need to tell Dobey….and your Mom and…..'

'No one would believe me when I said I could make this work, but I did it Ken. I did it for us…..for you. I needed you to believe in me. I needed you to see…. You've always been so distant and I know I wasn't the greatest father but I'm here now son and I've done it…..I made the drug and tested it and…..'

'Starsk, I'm gonna leave for a moment. I need to go and find a phone and ring for the ambulance buddy. I won't be long. Be right back. I'm not gonna leave you again. I'm right here, hang in there huh?'

'Look at the effects Kenneth. Look how it works. I worked so hard on this and….Kenneth?'

Dr Hutchinson almost sprang back in surprise as Hutch left his partner's side and launched himself across the room, grabbing his Father by his jacket and pinning him back against the wall. He didn't hurt the older man. He couldn't bring himself to use violence on the obviously sick doctor and yet he could no longer stand the sick prattling.

'Shut up Dad. Just shudup. I can't hear this any more. This isn't an experiment. That's my partner you brutalized not some lab chimp. What've you done to him? Why?'

'I used the new drug and it worked, see? He's quiet.'

'He's almost fuckin' dead! How do we reverse this? How do we get him better?'

Dr Hutchinson's face fell. 'Reverse it? I….. it was never designed to be reversed. Why would I…..Kenneth? Kenneth what're you…..Kenneth?'

Hutch grabbed his Dad's hand and pulled him from the O.R. and along the corridor to the room the doctor had been using. He looked around. 'Do you have a phone?' the cop snapped. 'A phone….Dad! Do you have a phone here?'

Dr Hutchinson seemed to be in shock, his face white and his hands shaking with emotion. 'No I….no. I don't have a phone. Kenneth don't you see what I've done? I did this for you….to make you proud. We never talk, you're always mad at me. I know I haven't been the perfect father but this is different. This is such a success. The subject doesn't matter, he's just proof it works.'

Hutch rounded on the older man. 'The "subject" as you so charmingly call him is my partner. He's the best friend I ever had although you've hated him from the start.'

'But…'

'No buts. You're staying here until I come get you. Sit down and wait and don't move.'

'But Kenneth….'

Hutch closed his ears to the plea. Taking the key from the lock on the inside of the door he closed it swiftly behind him and locked it securely. The door wasn't the strongest, but it would hold Dr H in place. Hutch needed peace and quiet. He needed to get help for Starsky and he needed to shut out his Dad's voice but even as he ran back down the hallway he could hear the knocking on the door and Dr Hutchinson pleading to be let out.

Starsk too could hear the noise and the older man and his heart went out to Hutch. It seemed so long since he'd heard the blond's velvet tones and he was beginning to think that he'd never hear them again. He never for one moment thought Hutch would give up on looking for him – that was unthinkable, but he had the feeling that despite his partner's best endeavors, this may be the one time when his luck finally ran out. When he heard Hutch's voice for the first time – when the strong yet gentle fingers had removed the wadding from his ears, he could have leapt for joy. The pains in his joints and neck, the ache in his head and the fire rushing through his veins all seemed to back down in their intensity now that Hutch had found him. Now everything would be ok, the blond was there to take care of him and even the fact that it was Hutch's own father who had done this to him seemed insignificant in his post rescue joy.

Hutch ran back to his car, ducking under the cut wire fence and yanking open the door. With a shaking voice he called in his number and asked for ambulance and a black and white, also forensics and a photographer to join him at the facility. Giving full directions, Hutch put the mic. back on the cradle and for a moment leaned heavily on the roof of his car, head resting on his hands as the feelings of relief left him weak and a little dizzy.

Turning, the flaxen haired cop jogged back to the big building and with a deep breath, walked back inside. Down the hallway he could still hear his Dad's voice pleading to be let out of the room so that he could talk to Hutch but the blond couldn't bring himself to listen. Instead he walked back into the O.R. and paused by the table looking at all the tubes affixing his buddy to the table. His Dad had done a real number on Starsky and Hutch wondered for a moment whether he could disconnect the hose from the respirator. He longed to hear Starsky's voice. He longed to apologise and to have the brunet's forgiveness although he wondered if Starsky would ever be able to forgive this atrocity. Yet looking at the machinery, the blond realised he could do nothing other than wait.

Instead, he drew up a dusty chair from the side of the room and perched on it. Gently he took a hold of Starsky's limp hand. It was hot, his skin dry and flaming red as the fever burned through his body. For a stupid moment, the blond was lost for words and then the damn of his emotions broke and he started to talk about everything and nothing, needing only to ensure that Starsky knew he was not alone any more.

God ..Starsky I'm so sorry. What have I done? This is all my fault and I'm so sorry. You're gonna make it buddy, I know you are, just like you did when Cheryl's Dad did that number on ya. What is it with you and other people's Dads huh? You have a thing with 'em or what?' Hutch paused for a moment, looking around him.

'You know where your at Starsk? This is where we met buddy, in this room remember? We met right here all those years ago?' The blond gave a small laugh and put his forehead on Starsky's arm as he continued to hold his hand.

'Jeez! Remember the girls? Remember that night? I never got to tell ya but I got the guys back – those guys who beat up on ya? I took their notes and wrote 'em all up for a full rectal exam. It seemed fitting. They were assholes anyway. I never got to say goodbye though. My Dad wouldn't let me. He wouldn't….' Hutch's voice broke and a single, solitary tear wound it's way down the side of his nose to land on Starsky's hot, fevered skin.

In the distance he heard the sound of sirens wailing and he pulled himself together. 'They're here Starsk, the ambulance. I need to go meet 'em but I'll be right back. Not gonna leave ya ok? You're not gonna be on your own again, hear me?

In response, Starsky concentrated all of his effort into his finger once more and it twitched gently against his buddy's hand. Hutch felt it and grinned. 'Can't keep a good man down huh? Be right back buddy, don't go away.'


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

The sounds of the wailing sirens drowned out any further conversation and Hutch reluctantly let go of Starsky's hand and ran from the room, down the hallway past the room his father was still locked in and out into the weed infested yard behind the building. Putting his fingers to his lips, he gave a piercing whistle and waved his arms to direct the paramedics and uniformed black and white cops over to the long dormitory.

As they approached, Hutch took the two cops to one side, indicating that the paramedics should wait for a moment. The blond was thankful that it was Ogama and McAvoy who had attended. Both men had years of experience and a calm approach to the job and Hutch had known them ever since he graduated the Academy, even being partnered with McAvoy for a short period when he was a flat foot.

'Sam, there's a guy….a g….well he's my Father. He's the one who's been holdin' Starsk. It's a long story but I need you to take him down to the Metro for me. Can you do that?'

The old cop nodded quietly, his eyes piercing Hutch's and searching the blond's soul but he remained silent, biting back the questions on the tip of his tongue.

'You want us to arrest him?'

A lump appeared in Hutch's throat unexpectedly. After what Dr Hutchinson had done to his partner…..after all the acrimony he'd suffered down the years this was still his Dad – his own flesh and blood and for a moment he hesitated. The younger cop took a deep breath, there being nothing else he could do. 'Yeah, I need you to arrest him. The charge is kidnap and assault. Take him down town and keep him there huh?'

McAvoy gave him a sympathetic look and nodded grimly.

Hutch stopped them as the two walked into the building. 'Guys?'

'Huh?'

'Um….go easy on him huh? He's a sick man. I think he needs some psychiatric help. Maybe the police surgeon can…..?'

McAvoy held up his hand. 'Leave it with us Hutch. We can deal with this. We'll make sure he's safe ok? Just go be with Starsky huh? And tell that hellcat we're thinkin' of him.'

Hutch smiled, thankful all over again that it was those two cops who'd been sent out for the job. He nodded and turned his attention to the paramedics who were standing by impatiently listening to the exchange.

'This way' he indicated. 'He's a mess. He's hooked up to stuff and he's…. I dunno if he can hear me. I think he can but he's…..he's.' The flaxen haired cop suddenly paled, the adrenaline from the last few hours finally seeping away to leave him feeling dizzy and weak. The female paramedic put her hand on his shoulder, steadying him.

'We can deal with this. What's his name?'

'Dave Starsky. He's twe twenty seven. He's…..' Hutch's voice broke and he staggered back, leaning heavily on the sun warmed wall of the dormitory.

The woman nodded. 'I'm Mary. My partner there is Mac. You can wait out here, we can go and assess the situation. You look like you need to rest. Do you need anything?'

Hutch pushed himself upright again. 'I'm fine. Where he goes I go. C'mon.' Pushing his way between the two medics Hutch led the way inside the building and down the hallway. As he reached the OR door, McAvoy and Ogama were bringing out Dr Hutchinson. He was not cuffed neither was he struggling. In fact he seemed to be deep in conversation with Ogama, telling him about his new found drug and how the medical and penal world were going to love it and he'd be famous and a millionaire. McAvoy smiled reassuringly at the blond as they passed and as they walked on down the corridor, Dr Hutchinson looked back over his shoulder.

'Will I see you down town son?'

Hutch closed his eyes as though in pain. Anger and pity vied with each other for dominance in his head. Despite everything the doctor had done to Starsky, the blond found it incredibly difficult to hate him completely. If his Dad had been the same as he ever was – dominating, arrogant and overbearing, it would not have been so hard, but this diminished, pathetic man was not the Hutchinson Hutch had grown to hate. Pity won out and Hutch nodded. 'Maybe later' he grunted and walked into the OR.

Starsky had heard everything that was going on outside. He could hardly believe that it was Hutch's father who had taken him and done this to him and yet his anxiety at his situation and his feelings of loneliness were brushed aside as he heard the hurt and anger in his partner's voice. He longed to be able to tell Hutch that he was going to be ok, that he was relieved that the blond had found him and that he wanted Hutch to ease off on his anger against his Dad.

The brunet felt useless. Without the power of movement, speech or even his eyes to express his feelings, he could do nothing more than twitch his finger to let the flaxen haired cop know he was still with him but when he heard the sirens wailing in the distance, his anxiety started to return.

What would the medics do? How would they deal with him? He'd been in enough hospitals in his time to know that respirators were not things to play around with. His throat had become more or less used to the hose intruder and his lungs were attuned to the slow steady rate of his breaths. In a way, Starsky was scared to have the hose removed. His body felt useless, as though his brain were in some sort of flesh and blood prison and the thought of struggling to breathe on his own left him feeling nauseous. He'd taken so long to get used to the respirator and now he didn't know if he could remember how to breathe on his own, or even whether his lungs were able to function properly any more.

Starsky braced himself as he heard Hutch's hushed conversation outside the OR door and a moment later he felt other people around him. For a moment he felt crowded and enclosed. There were too many people around his bed after the two weeks of being alone, or with Dr Hutchinson. The rate of the beeps on the monitor increased and Mary gently put her hand on Starsky's arm.

'Dave? Can you hear me honey? I'm Mary, one of the paramedics. We're gonna deal with this, ok? Just lie back and let us handle it huh?

_What the fuck does she think I'm gonna do? Get up and do a tango with her? Jeez!_

Hutch's voice sounded close to his left ear. 'Starsk, I'm right here buddy. They're gonna check you out, see if we can't get some of this stuff off of ya.'

_Don't leave me again. Don't let 'em do anythin' they shouldn't Blondie. You got my back partner._

Gently Mary and Mac started to assess what was going on in the brunet's body. They worked slowly and methodically and with professional detachment but at times both the medics couldn't help but comment.

'The drip has caused some ulceration on his arm here. It's bad Mac, can you pass me a dressing? I daren't take it out till we know what it is, but it doesn't look much like anything I've ever seen before.'

'His heart rate is steady but fast and he's running a temperature of 103. He's got some doozy of a fever there. Dave, we're gonna take are of that, ok?'

_Take away the blast furnace playing fast and loose with my chest?__ Sure. Go for it! I'm prepared to swap the Mojave for Antarctica right now._

Mary completed her preliminary examination of her patient and indicated that Hutch should follow her outside. The blond patted Starsky's shoulder gently and followed the woman.

'So?' he asked.

'So I think we have several problems here. The first is that I daren't disconnect Dave from the respirator coz we don't know what effect the drug is having on his system. Sure, he can't move his arms and legs, but has it also affected his lungs? Second, we have no idea what's in that drip bag, but I'd bet a dollar to a dime it isn't distilled water. Without knowing what's in it, we won't be able to give the doctors much of a clue either. Dave has a high fever and from the heart rate I'd say he also has a lot of pain. I'd love to give him something for that, but again, without knowing the composition of the drug, I daren't in case it interacts badly. Finally, his body is in poor shape. It looks like he has had some nutriments from the state of the tube into his stomach, but not enough. As you saw, he has bruises over his body and when I tried to turn him, I saw he has some large sores down his spine and on his shoulders. I don't think we can move him in the ambulance as he is. We need to get a doctor up here and sooner rather than later.'

'Well go get one – the best. I'll stay here with Starsky. I mean….'

Mary put her hand up, slowing the blond down. 'Hey….chill! I can radio for the helicopter to bring the doctor up here, that isn't a problem. What we could all do with is some kind of an idea of what the drug is composed of. If we get that, we can fight the effects.'

'Like an antidote?'

'Yeah kinda.'

Hutch snickered. 'We've been down this road before. I don't want to leave him. I can't.'

The woman gave him a reassuring smile. 'If he's as good a friend as you are, he'll understand. Without wanting to make this too dramatic, if you find the composition, you might just save his life.'

The cop blanched and for a moment looked as though he might pass out, Hutch knew Starsky's situation was dire, but having it put into words made it somehow all the more real. Finally he squared his shoulders.

'Fine. Gimme a minute to tell him huh? He can hear me, I know he can.'

'Go do your stuff, I'm sure he can hear you. But don't take too long. Every minute wasted….'

'Yeah. Yeah, I know, I know' Hutch composed himself and walked back into the room, the grimy walls and the bright operating room light seeming ever ore oppressive. He shivered. The sooner he and Starsky were out of this hell hole, the better.

Walking over to the bed Hutch once again took a hold of Starsky's hand. 'Hey bud, it's me again. I saw you working your usual charm with the lady medic.'

_Yeah? You should see me when I can actually move!_

'I need to leave you for a while Starsk.'

_No! For Gods sake don't leave. Not now. I need you, you know that. Not now Blondie, please!_

I need to go back down town to talk to Dad. I need to know what sort of stuff he put in this drug. After that, the hospital will cook up the good stuff and alacazam you'll be back on your feet in no time.

_Shit Hutchinson, you couldn't lie your way out of a paper sack! They' have no idea how to sort me out and they're clutchin' at straws._

'Mary and Mac are gonna be right here. You're not alone Starsk. You'll never be alone, I promise.'

_I know. Hey, you found the antidote in Cheryls Dad's place. I got faith in ya Pal. See ya.'_

'Stay strong Starsk. Hold on in there ok?' I'll see you down at Memorial in a little while. Don't go anywhere.'

_Oh! Ya mean don't go out for a steak dinner then to that cute disco on the beach! Right, cool. I'll just lie here and count the freckles on the inside of my eyelids huh? T'riffic!_

'Ok, I'm goin' now Starsk. It's gonna be ok. It's gonna be….'

_Just go buddy before one of us disgraces the name of virility and cries huh? I'm fine, but just go, now. Do your stuff huh? I trust ya._

Hutch felt the barest squeeze on his hand, the very tip of Starsky's finger twitching and showing his friend understood. While he still could, the blond got up and left. No goodbyes – it was never their style – but there was an air of tension between them, each knowing the next few hours would depend on how Hutch and his Father got on.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 - to mah mah - sorry for making you upset.**

Hutch drove back down town from the facility with his mind only half on his driving. His spirit was back in that stark OR with his partner, willing the brunet to continue his struggle to live. Rationally, he knew he could do nothing to help Starsky by being there with him, but irrationally he had the feeling that he needed to be by the curly haired man's side, to give Starsky support and to will the life back into almost lifeless body.

Without really realising it, Hutch found himself driving down the freeway that led to down town Bay City. The stores, office and apartment blocks slid past the car in a blur as his hands mechanically fed the wheel round each bend and corner. In his head, the flaxen haired cop repeated the mantra over and again like some magic spell. _Hang in there Starsk. Hang in there buddy. We can make it. I'm so sorry. _The words repeated again and again until they lost all meaning and yet they revolved around Hutch's head. Stopping may bring dire consequences to his buddy. Chanting seemed the right thing to do.

So consumed with his thoughts was he that Hutch narrowly missed a mother pushing her child in a pushchair out onto the crossing. He skidded to a halt in a squeal of rubber and gazed at the white face of the woman who pushed her stroller quickly out of his way and ran the rest of the way across the road. Behind him a horn blared loudly and Hutch took a deep breath, chiding himself for getting lost in his thoughts. _C'mon Hutchy, pull it together man. A dead buddy aint any help to Starsk. _

Setting off more gently, the blond negotiated his way through the rest of the evening traffic and drew up in the police garage outside the Metro. With a heavy heart, he got out of the car, slammed it closed behind him and headed into the building and down to the interrogation rooms. Ogama was just walking out of a room on the left as Hutch passed through the first set of locked gates.

'Is he here?' the blond asked.

'Yeah, he's here. He's with the shrink right now. You ok Hutch? You look pale as a ghost. How's Starsky doin'?' Ogama asked.

'The medics are with Starsky right now. They…they aren't sure how to help him. They….I'm… I need to talk to Dad. I need to see him. He has information that could help Starsk.'

Ogama caught his arm as Hutch tried to push past. 'He's not well Hutch. He's…..well I don't think he's the Dad you knew. Go easy huh?'

'I'll do what it takes to save my partner. I don't care if that's my Dad or the bloody Boston Strangler. He knows what was in that drug and he's gonna tell me if I have to beat it out of him.' Even as he said the brave words however, Hutch knew he could never carry out his threat. Sure, he would do all he could to persuade his Dad to part with the information but as to resorting to violence? This was not some flake they'd dragged in off the street. This was his family – the man who, despite having been a thorn in the young Hutch's side for so many years was still the father figure who had shaped his life for better or worse. He was the man his Mother had loved since she was a 16 year old in junior high and the man who doted on his sister Karen. He could no more hurt him than he could Starsky. But he still needed information.

Ogama saw the dilemma behind the tired crystal blue eyes. 'Can we do anything? Can we question him for you? You could go be with Starsky.'

Hutch looked back at the sympathetic older cop and was eternally grateful. For a moment he almost agreed to the suggestion. It would be so much easier if he were simply to walk away and let someone else do the hard work. It would be far easier on Hutch if he never saw his Dad again and yet deep down Hutch trusted no one but himself to question Dr Hutchinson. Should Ogama not get what was required – should Starsky not pull through, Hutch would always have that nagging doubt that maybe he could have done better. He sighed.

'Thanks Hikaru, but no thanks. This is something I need to do for myself. Thanks for your help guys. Now I need to go see my Dad.' The blond shuffled past the two officers to the door of the interview room just as the psychiatrist was finishing up. the tall police surgeon looked up and smiled at the cop as he came into the room.

'Richard? Look who's here to see you. It's your son. You're going to feel a little light headed and woozy with the sedative I've given you. I want you to try to get some rest and I'll be along to see you again later.'

Dr Hutchinson looked angrily at the surgeon. 'I'm a doctor. I'm not stupid. I know the effects of Temazepam. I'm fine, I don't need your help, there's nothing wrong with me.'

'I'll be the judge of that. Get the rest huh?' the shrink said calmly and paused at the door before Hutch walked in. He drew the cop outside a moment. 'Go easy. From what I can see, your Dad is in some kind of delusional state, I'll know more when I've had a few sessions with him. It'd……well it would be better if you didn't see him right now.'

'Thanks for the heads up doc. but there's something I need to speak to him about. is he ok? I mean does he know what he's talking about?' Hutch asked.

'He's fixated about some work he's been doing, but in every other area he seems ok. he's still a force to be reckoned with.'

The blond snorted. 'Ya think? This is nothing, believe me. Thanks, I'll um….I'll see you later.'

Hutch started to walk through the door with a sinking feeling in his chest. His head throbbed with tension not only from seeing his Dad face to face in these circumstances, but from knowing that the life of David Starsky may well rest on the outcome of this conversation. Squaring his shoulders, he walked in, closed the door and looked Dr Hutchinson in the eyes.

'Kenneth! Where have you been? You said you'd be seeing me but I didn't realise you'd keep me waiting this long. Never mind. Come and sit down son, I have so much to tell you.'

Hutch pulled out the second chair from behind the small table and perched on it, uncomfortable and at odds with himself. For a moment he was lost for words. What should he do first? Should he yell at his Dad for doing what he had done to starsky, or should he play it quiet, hope to get the information and then go for the jugular?

'I um….I had things to do' he started.

'What? Speak up Kenneth. You always mutter. I've told you before that you'll never get anywhere in this life if you don't speak up.'

'Dad what have you been doing?'

'Doing? Oh my god son! What have I been doing! I'm glad you're here, I have so much to tell you. The drug…..the one I've been talking about? It works. It really works!'

The blond gritted his teeth. How could someone be so happy about making another human being into something less than a cadaver? He inhaled deeply striving to keep his temper under control.

'Why didn't you tell Mum and Karen you were going away?'

'They weren't interested. They didn't believe I could do it. They said I was getting obsessed, but I knew it would work, I knew it.'

'But they're worried about you Dad.'

'Worried? Why? I was working, they knew that.'

'But you left your offices. Why'd you leave Duluth?'

'I needed a subject to test the drug on.'

The blond's hands clenched into fists as he realised that in Dr Hutchinson's eyes, Starsky was no more than a lab rat – something to be experimented on. He closed his eyes, exhaled and continued.

'Tell me about the drug Dad. What is it?'

Dr Hutchinson looked at his son in an odd sort of way. 'Why do you want to know? You've never shown much interest in my work before. What's different now?'

'Well, you wanted to tell me, didn't you? I mean you seem excited about it' the blond hedged, trying to sound convincing without scaring his Dad.

'It's amazing. It works Kenneth. It really works. I've finally perfected it. None of the lab animals survived very long, but I've kept this one going for two weeks and….'

'He's no lab animal. That's' my best friend you're talkin' about!' Hutch yelled, no longer able to keep up the pretence.

'But he's strong. The strongest person I could think of. He fought it you know. He fought it all the way, but the drug was too powerful. I always knew that one day I'd silence him for good. He was just a mouth when he was younger. A motor-mouth who never knew when to shut up. He told everyone his opinions and I didn't want to hear. He's a nobody. It isn't important. He isn't important. In a way, he'll be famous now too, like me, when I tell the world about my drug. I'm going to call it Immobilatin. Do you like the name Kenneth?'

'Tell me what's in it' Hutch ordered, his hands now so tightly coiled that his finger nails were digging painfully into his palms.

'In it? A lot. I mean, I based it on most of the major tranquilisers, mostly the opiates, although it doesn't seem to have much of a painkilling effect. I think that's because of the other things. They act against it. I had to balance it very carefully you know. Some of the subjects couldn't breathe so I had to put this one on a respirator. But that's no big deal. If they use it on criminals anyway, it'll cost less to feed and house them this way. They can stack 'em, one bed on top of the next. It'll save space and money and…. What is it son? Kenneth? Aren't you proud of me? I did this for the family – for money…..for fame. I did it for you son. You were never proud of me and that's the one thing I wanted more than ever.'

The revelation came as a shock to the blond cop as though someone had just thrown a bucket of ice water over him. Far from being the waste of space that he thought he was to his father, in actual fact, Dr Hutchinson had spent his life trying to make Hutch proud of him! For a moment the blond was lost for words until he remembered how his father referred to Starsky as something less than human.

'Dad, please. I am…proud of you, but I'd be prouder if you'd tell me what was in the drug.'

Dr Hutchinson's drug clouded eyes lifted until he could take a closer look at his eldest offspring. 'I don't know. I can't remember' he said slowly.

'You have to! You have to remember. You've been working on the fuckin' thing long enough!' Hutch snapped.

His Dad looked up, his spine stiffening. Lightening fast, his hand lifted and hit Hutch across the face. 'I will not have you using profanity like that!'

Hutch stood, wiping his hand across his cheek to alleviate the sting. He bent over the table until, he was inches from his Dad's face. 'I need to know the drugs you used. Please Dad. I am proud of you, but I'd be real proud if you could remember.'

'I can't son. My heads stuffed up with all the tranquillisers that shrink gave me.'

'NO!' the blond slammed his fist down on the table and Dr Hutchinson leaned back swiftly out of his way.

'But I think I wrote it down. I did. I wrote it down son. I never meant to really hurt him. He was just…'

'Don't Dad. You've said enough just don't say no more about starsky. You never liked him. You never liked that he was my partner. Where did you write it? Where did you write it down Dad? Think.'

'In my notebook – my black leather one. The one your Mother bought me.'

'And where is it?'

Dr Hutchinson put his head in his hands. 'In the drawer of the desk.'

'In your office at home?'

'No, at that place….the home.'

Hutch straightened and headed for the door.

'Are you going Kenneth? Can I come home with you?'

There was such an air of "little boy lost" in his Dad's voice that for a moment Hutch hesitated. He turned, his hand on the handle.

'No Dad, you have to stay here. I'll…..I'll be back.'

With that, the flaxen haired cop opened the door, rushed out into the corridor and back to his car. He had hope and hope was all he could expect right now.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Starsky was left on his own with the two paramedics. They spoke to him as though he could answer back and they treated him as human being rather than the laboratory experiment he'd been used for for the last two weeks. Yet despite their kind words, gentle touches and hushed tones, the one person who could truly alleviate the brunet's fears was missing. Hutch had gone away again saying he had to go take care of things. In "partner code" that usually meant that one or other of them had a job to do which was critical to the operation. In this case, did it mean that Hutch was going to find out how to get him out of this mess?

There was a roaring sound overhead and for a moment Starsky was at a loss to recognise it. The roaring got closer and then seemed to slow down and suddenly it hit the cop where he'd heard it before. it was a helicopter and he'd had more than his fair share of those is 'Nam. Shit! If they were using a bird to get him to the hospital, things must be bad.

A moment later another voice joined Mary and Mac's and the conversation became more hushed. Starsky thought they'd all gone out of the room but within seconds, their presences were back around his bed, crowding him and making him feel jumpy. Hutch had had the decency to put his jacket over the middle of his partner's body before the ambulance arrived and so at least the brunet didn't feel quite so vulnerable, but still, without the power of movement, sight or speech, he was no more than a prop in the play unfolding around him.

A hand touched his forehead and he would have flinched if he could. The hand lingered a moment and a female voice different from Mary's asked 'What's his temp?'

'It was 103 and steady' Mary replied. 'Apparently the drug in that drip is what's keeping him paralysed. His partner has gone to try to find out its composition.'

The third voice leaned close to Starsky's ear. 'Dave, I know you can hear me and I know this must be real scary for you right now.'

_Ya think?_

'We're gonna get you out of here just as soon as we can. I want you to relax and let us take care of things, ok?

_Aint a whole lot else I can do right now lady! I'm not gonna be doin' the 100 yard dash any time soon._

'I'm Elle the doctor. I'm gonna be looking after you.'

_Are you as pretty as you sound?_

'We're gonna be as gentle as we can Dave, but we need to move you. I know it's gonna hurt some, but we need to get you onto a gurney to take you to the 'copter. After that we're gonna get you to Memorial hospital just as soon as we can. We'll be able to do more for you there, so hang on huh?'

_Do your worst Doc, just get me outa here. Right now even Memorial sounds like bliss. I can….oh shiiiiiit that hurts. No! No stop it hurts too much….it…..sweet Jesus stop._

The hands on Starsky's body started to move him from the resting place he'd had for two long weeks. Limbs that had not moved in all that time had become stiff, calcium having built up in the joints. Each small movement felt as though a red hot knife were being plunged into his joints and yet Starsky could no more scream and protest than he could get up and walk away.

New pains ripped through his body at every movement and as he felt himself lifted off of the operating table the air got to his back and the underside of his body and bit sharply at the huge sores decorating his spine, shoulders hips and heels. The movement pulled at the hose in his throat making him gag again. The brunet felt as though he were choking and yet he had no cough reflex to deal with the problem. He was useless – a piece of meat being transferred from the fridge to the butcher's block. It was intolerable. It was unsupportable and as he was rushed out into the sunlight and into the copter, once again, in defence against his predicament, Starsky's mind took him away to a different time and place – another 'copter, and another country.

_He and his friend Tom Traff Trafford had been in Vietnam no more than 36 hours. They'd been flown by helicopter to their camp and the flight had not gone well. Starsky had felt sick to his stomach at the noise, the heat and the motion of the helicopter and he had almost disgraced himself by upchucking over his CO. Now, he'd had a night of sleep and had been given his orders for his first mission, flying with Traff over enemy territory to take out the snipers that laid in wait for ground troops._

_They got into the Huey and Starsky fumbled with the lap belt, securing extra tight across his waist as he heard the rotors start to build up speed. He closed his eyes and tried to stop the bile that reached up into his throat. Only the thought of the unending jokes he'd have to bear if his friends knew he'd thrown up inside the 'copter kept him from losing his breakfast and as he felt the bird take off, throwing him forward against his lap belt he groaned low in his throat, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He felt a warm hand surreptitiously close on his at his side and give it a reassuring squeeze and he chanced a quick glance at Traff._

'_See, as easy as pie' the young man assured him, smiling._

'_Uh huh. I usually prefer my pie to stand still and be at ground level' Starsky ground out. But still he felt confident enough to open his eyes and stare with sick fascination at the treetops flashing past below the 'copter. And suddenly it didn't seem quite so bad to be up there with the birds. He even managed to lean a little way out of the seat to look further down, seeing small clearings with single houses, rice fields, more trees and then in the distance the sparkling green expanse of the Mekong Delta._

_The 'copter started to fly lower as it approached and the co-pilot turned to them._

'_Ya ready? Glad to be outa the numbha ten?'_

_Traff looked blank. 'Say again'._

_The co-pilot grinned. 'Jeez, they sent a couple'a FNGs to do a man's job?'_

_Starsky leaned in to Traff. 'Are they talkin' English?'_

_The co-pilot held out his hand and the men shook it. 'Hi, I'm Freddo. The pilot's Rabbit. How long ya been here?'_

'_A day' Starsky yelled over the noise of the rotors._

'_Hells bells! Ok, you'll get used to the lingo. Numbha ten. Means anything bad, usually the fuckin' red dirt that gets everywhere. Even you're dicks'll be covered before too long. FNGs are you guys. Newbies. So. Are ya ready for target practice?'_

'_Uh huh. Point us at 'em' the young soldier yelled and got his rifle into position._

_During the next hour the Huey patrolled up and down the river bank as the crew of four looked for any signs of the life hidden in the rich vegetation of the delta. Rice paddies formed a patchwork quilt effect on one back while on the other, lush vegetation and trees of every shade of green dipped down to the waters edge. The two snipers in the back of the 'copter waited patiently, their rifles poised as they took out one position after another, their scores increasing as they shouted out the umbers to each other. It mattered not to them that they were killing men who they'd never met and who they would never know. They were fighting for their country and because their CO had given them a task._

_An hour later, Traff had five confirmed kills and Starsky eight. Both men were grimy, sweating profusely and hyped up on the adrenaline from their private little battle. The Huey made one more sweep up the side of the river as Traff and Starsky's eyes scanned for tell tale flashes of metal. They were beginning to relax when suddenly they saw a hail of bullets coming their way. The pilot swung the 'copter viciously to the left to avoid the incoming, but Traff, who had been sat at that side and had unbuckled his belt to get a better firing position was taken by surprise. He slid almost all of the way out of the seat before Starsky realised what was going on. He had kept his belt securely fastened but had slackened it somewhat. Now he leaned over as far as he could go and managed to brush the waistband of Traff's pants with his finger tips. He cursed as his friend slipped further away._

'_Hang on' he yelled as he saw his friend's hands scrabbling at the doorway to the Huey._

_Carefully, he hooked his feet underneath a heavy box of ammunition in the well of the copter and unbuckled his seat belt. He leaned further over just as the copter took more evasive action. The bird slewed sideways again and Traff made a desperate effort to hang on to the frame of the door. But his hands were hot and wet with sweat and he let out a strangled cry as he felt himself falling sideways._

_With a titanic effort, Starsky launched himself sideways and as Traff's body started to fall out of the copter, he grasped his wrist and held on. Now, with the Huey flying almost sideways, Traff whole body weight dangled from Starsky's one hand and he could feel himself too slipping towards the opening._

'_For fucks sake straighten her up' he yelled at the pilot. But the man was having problems of his own. The Freddo was now slumped half across Rabbit having caught one of the bullets aimed at the copter. He was fighting with the controls to the craft while trying to prop the co-pilot up and out of the way. But there was an ominous red bloom across Freddo's chest and as Starsky watched, Rabbit pushed one last time and the co-pilots' body slumped forward, lifeless. With both hands free to fly, Rabbit managed to get the bird under control, straightening the craft so that Starsky could get back some of his equilibrium. He leaned further out now, his legs re-anchored beneath the heavy box and reached out with his other hand._

'_Traff, reach up pal' he yelled as Traff's terrified face turned up towards him. He saw his friend try to fling his arm over his head, but the hand came up short and Starsky only managed to brush finger tips before Traff fell back._

'_One more time. C'mon Trafford, ya son of a bitch. Reach!' he yelled and Traff fling all his body weight behind his swing upwards, knowing this was either the time when the other solder would catch him, or he'd end up ditched in the water and at the mercy of the enemy._

_With a Herculean effort, Starsky leaned out a few inches more and as Traff's hand came into sight, he made a mad grab for it, almost overbalancing himself in his effort to save his friend. Their hands grasped each other and Starsky panted with exertion before wondering what to do next._

'_I haven't the strength to live you lift ya. Hang on. Just hang on' he yelled at the dangling man. He saw Traff's pale face nod once and twisted to look over his shoulder._

'_Can ya set us down somewhere?' he thundered at the pilot._

'_Not unless you want to be a POW. Can you hang on to him?'_

_Starsky nodded. 'For Gods sake fly quicker huh? I can't hang on for ever'._

_The next five minutes were the longest of Traff and Starsky's young lives. With ever manoeuvre of the Huey, Starsky could feel his body slip and slide. His hands were damp, their grip precarious at best. But the thought of letting go of Traff's wrists was more than he could bear and he gritted his teeth as he clung on with every ounce of strength._

_Below him, Traff dangled dangerously, never again looking up. He couldn't face the look of desperation on Starsky's face and his only thought was that if the brunet did eventually drop him, he wouldn't want Starsky to be left with the sight of his frightened eyes fixed on his friend. And so he kept his chin ducked down on his chest and his eyes closed as he felt the air whistling past him and when the Huey finally started to drop down below the tree tops, he lost his hold on consciousness._

_When the copter finally came to a rest on the ground, the pilot had to get out and physically disengage Starsky's hands from around Traff's wrists. Both young men were almost catatonic with shock and the older pilot raced off through the trees to get help. As they were left alone, Traff groaned and opened his eyes, seeing the deep indigo ones above him. He had little strength left to speak, but managed to pant out a weak 'thank you' before unconsciousness overtook him again. And from his perch laid across the bench seat of the Huey Starsky whispered 'No problem pal. I gotcha buddy'._

'I think he's dreaming' Elle mumbled as she looked at the blip dancing across the black screen indicating Starsky's heartbeat. 'His pulse just shot up and his eyes are moving under his lids. Shows he isn't totally paralysed but I'll know more when we get to the hospital.'

'Landing in two minutes' the pilot said into her earphones.

'Good. I want to start his tests as soon as we get him I there' the woman shouted back over the noise of the rotors. 'The sooner we figure this thing out the better, but from where I'm sitting he doesn't stand much of a chance of walking ever again.'


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Hutch pushed his way through the large swing doors and into the quiet, focused hush of Memorial's ER area. He had driven at top speed back up into the hills to the Nodding Pines facility and had, with a shudder, once again entered the hell hole his partner had been held in for two weeks. Hutch had cringed at the sight of the OR, now happily devoid of its prisoner and had taken himself off to the room his Dad had been using as an office.

There, instead of the usual Hutchinson meticulousness he saw utter chaos. Papers were strewn across the floor, others in untidy piles on the desk in the corner. A small bunk bed with its clothes in an untidy heap at it's foot lay in one corner, a table with food, wrappers and a small camping gas burner in another. The place stunk of sweat, rotting food and aftershave. The papers and the furniture also reflected the state of Dr Hutchinson's mind. Hutch had always been used to his Father writing erudite, clean scripts with virtually no errors and yet here, in the doctor's handwritten scrawl were countless observations of "subject S". The writing showed scribbled notes in the margins, huge crossings through words, ink drips and rambling descriptions of the state of his "subject's" body and more importantly hundreds of recordings of pulse, temperature and blood pressure.

Stowing all those in his pocket in case they were of use to the medical team back at the hospital, Hutch had continued his search for the formula to the drug his Dad had used on Starsky and finally, after a quarter of an hour of frantic searching, he found the black, leather bound book that Dr Hutchinson thought of as his bible. It held countless years of observations, notes on operations and innovative drugs and, right at the back, a list of drugs and their doses included in the makeup of Imobilaton.

The drive back down the mountain road had been filled with mixed emotions for the blond. Being in that room had left Hutch in no doubt just how mentally sick his Dad had become. The room seemed strange and yet familiar all at the same time. There was a fortnights worth of clutter and detritus and yet there was the lingering smell of his Dad's familiar Santos de Cartier aftershave. The Mont Blanc pen he always used remained lidless on the last paper he wrote on and his gold watch was left carelessly thrown in a corner. Hutch had gathered up the three possessions – pen, watch and leather bound book and had stowed them in his pocket and now the faint whiff of aftershave filled the car.

His dad.

The man he'd loved, hated, feared, argued with, railed against….and now almost pitied. Damn. Hating him would have been so much easier after what he'd done to Starsky and yet somehow, Hutch could not quite cultivate that emotion. Instead, he felt sorrow at what had been done to his friend, and also sorrow at what had become of arguably one of the greatest medical minds in the Mid West. Hutch also worried how his Mother would cope knowing that her partner of 35 years was sick and determined to ring his sister Karen just as soon as he'd given the formula to the doctors and been to see Starsky.

The brunet, for his own part had spent a painful half an hour in the helicopter being flown down from the hills and to Memorial. The landing was even worse, every movement jolting limbs that had become stiff and sore over the two weeks he'd been forced into immobility and catching at the red, open pressure sores marring his back, shoulders, heels and hips. Unable to let anyone know how he felt because of the hose in his throat, Starsky silently screamed at each jolt, especially when the porters lifted the gurney from the copter and wheeled it over the uneven concrete to the hospital entrance. Even then, his painful ordeal was not over. The transfer from gurney to examination table felt as though a thousand red hot needles were being forced into his joints and in his head he screamed again and again as hands placed him on clean sheets and placed a soft, fluffy pillow beneath his head. He was tired…..so exhausted that he wondered at times whether this was just some nightmare from which he may eventually wake. The drug in his system had not allowed him to sleep a deep sleep for such a long time long. Yes, he dreamed, but he hadn't rested – truly rested – in such a long time that despite remaining still, he felt more tired than he could ever remember.

Then there had been more voices and more hands. These were softer, and more gentle and he heard murmured conversations.

'…..been through hell. He's been drugged for two weeks. Doesn't look like he's had any movement in all that time. He must be in agony.'

'Do you think he's awake?'

'Hearing's the last thing to go.'

'Should we speak to him?'

'A nurse should always speak to her patient. How long have you been a student?'

'This is my second day.'

'Welcome to the ER honey. Now introduce yourself to Dave here.'

A pause.

'Um, hi Dave. I'm um….Connie. I'm new but I'm gonna be helping to look after you. We can improve together huh?'

_H Connie. Are you pretty? You sound pretty. We're gonna be terrific, you an' me._

Another voice joined the other two. It was a voice he'd heard before. It was…..hell, what was her name? Helen? No…um…Elle. The doc, yeah. Hands started to explore his body and once again unable to move his useless limbs, inside his head, Starsky cringed and flinched away. The hands reminded him so much of his ordeal, especially when they ducked lower to examine the centre of his body that he wanted nothing more than to bat them away and yell at everyone to leave him alone and let him sleep.

Where was Hutch? Where was the blond when he needed him the most? Hutch would know what he needed. Hutch had been there when….Hutch!

_Oh my God. Was Blondie really __there in that room? Or is this some fuckin' dream and really I'm still in the OR? What's real and what isn't? Can't tell any more. Can't see what's goin' on. What's happening to m?. Huuuuutch!_

Elle looked up as the blips on the heart rate monitor picked up their speed again. She saw the sweat once again forming on the pale olive skin and took a gauze pad, gently wiping her patient's brow. Leaning close, she spoke into Starsky's ear.

'Dave, you're safe. You're at Memorial now and you're safe. It's Elle again. Your friend will be back soon but right now we're gonna take good care of you,'

_Care as in getting' this damned thing outa my throat?__ Care as in lettin' me go home? Great – do what ya have to._

'I just need you to try to relax huh?'

_Relax? You try relaxin' honey. I want out. I want…_

'Your friend will be back here soon.'

_Hutch? Hutch'll be back? Where's he gone? __He wasn't a dream. What's he doin'? God I hope he aint doin sumthin stupid. He should go see his Dad. He should go make sure he's ok._

The blips on the monitor slowed a little and Elle nodded. 'That's good Dave. That's great. Now, I know you have some pain, and I'm gonna deal with that just as soon as I can. We need to find out what was in the drug you've been given and then we can start to deal with it ok?

_No, not ok. I want out NOW. Just get me right huh? Take the needle outa my arm and the hose outa my throat and I'll be fine.__ Did Hutch mention that I hate hospitals? No? Guess not. Well let me tell ya honey. I HATE hospitals – that's hate with a capital H, got it. Now get me patched up, get me on my feet an' get me outa here. _The words inside Starsky's head made him feel better. Talking to another human being made him feel better and yet deep down, the brunet realised that there would be no quick fix to his problem. He no longer felt his limbs except when someone touched them or moved them for him. He felt detached from them for the rest of the time as though he were nothing more than a thinking, dreaming blob floating in a painful world of colours and cushioned on a none too comfortable pad of drugs. Talking to himself helped. Talking to himself alleviated some of his fears. Hutch's presence alleviated more and yet there was a dawning deep seated fear that this time there would be no miracle cure.

_OK, cool it Davey. You're in the right place, you just need to trust the folks around ya, huh? They know what they're doin'._

_Yeah? They didn't do too good a job when Bellamy got to ya._

_Well yeah, but that was different……wasn't it? Then he wanted me dead, not made into some kinda basket case. This time Hutch knows who has the drug. There must be an antidote. There was last time. There's an antidote to every drug, right? Right? RIGHT?_

_Is that how ya feel, like you're a basket case?_

_Uh huh. _(small unsure voice)._ Right now I feel worse than the guys who came back from 'Nam. Like Ginger. No legs left. _

_He was fine, wasn't he?_

_Yeah, sure, so long as he had wheels. But he had his arms too and…..Oh Jeez, shut it Davey. Let 'em do what they have to huh? Let Hutch do what he has to. Let Hutch…. Hutch? Hutch? You there buddy? Huh?_

There was another nose outside the place where Starsky was lying and the brunet thought he heard a familiar voice in the distance. A second later he felt Elle's hand on his arm and again, inwardly he flinched again, snickering to himself as he did so.

_Gonna have to work on that one Davey. Jeez, cool it!_

'Dave, I'm just going outside for a moment. I'll be right back and the nurses are right here with you. You aren't alone and you won't be – we'll make sure of that. I'll be right back.'

With a final reassuring squeeze, Elle left her patient and made her way outside. Down the hallway, an orderly was showing Hutch into a small waiting room. Hutch was asking to see someone and Elle walked in, closed the door and held out her hand.

'Hi. I'm Elle Muir. I'm the doctor dealing with Mr Starsky. You're his partner?'

'Hutch….um Ken Hutchinson. I think I have what you need Doc. I got the formula for the drug he's been given.'

'Nice work detective' Elle smiled at the handsome blond man. She took the book he handed her and ran her eye down the list of drugs at the back of the book. Her lips moved silently.

'Oxycontin…..clopidogril…..etomidate……ketamine…..curare…..methylenedioxymethylamphetamine…. Ok. Well there's a helluva a cocktail here. I need to get this down to the lab so that the boys there can start working on some sort of antidote. In the mean time, if you have any questions?'

'Is he gonna make it? I mean…..is he gonna recover?' Hutch asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

Elle put down the book, perched on the corner of the table and pinched the bridge of her nose. 'I would love to say yes. I would love to reassure you and tell you that everything was gonna be fine, but right now I don't know. I just don't know how far the drug – this Imobilaton – has paralysed him. Each body has two sets of muscles. Voluntary muscles move our arms, legs, make us walk, talk, blink. Others – involuntary muscles deal with the stuff we need to do to keep alive. They make our heart beat, keep us breathing without us having to think about it. If the Imobilaton has only compromised the voluntary muscles, then there's a good chance that Dave will recover quite quickly and with a course of physio. If the involuntary muscles are also compromised, however….'

Hutch's heart sank. 'How can you tell?'

'There's one sure fire way. We disconnect him from the respirator to see if he can breathe on his own.'

'Isn't that dangerous?'

'No. If he can't breathe, we connect the hose again. But I can't pretend it will be pleasant for Dave. He's gonna feel as though he's suffocating – as though there's a lead weight on his chest.'

The blond paled, trying hard not to think how that would feel. 'When? When would you decide?'

'The sooner the better' Elle said, getting up from the desk. 'No time like the present.'

Hutch walked with the woman down the corridor and stopped at the door of Starsky's room. In the blue neon light above the bed, his friend looked pale and incredibly vulnerable lying on the bed covered by a single white sheet. A surge of emotion passed through the cop's chest. Anger at his Dad followed by pity for the once great man followed by anger again at what had been done to his friend. And above it all, a longing to make it better – to somehow have the ability to trade places with Starsky. It wasn't so much that Hutch wanted to lie in his partner's position as much as it would be easier for the blond to bear if he were the one in the hospital bed and Starsky were the one who was fit and healthy.

Taking a calming breath, Hutch walked into the room and over to his friend's side. He took a hold of the brunet's hand again and leaned over the inert body.

'Hey mushbrain, I'm back again.'

_Hey partner. Where'd ya go huh?_

I've found the composition of the drug. Elle's team are gonna be cookin' up the good stuff right now. You're gonna make it buddy, just hang in there.'

_Hangin' Hutch….just hangin'._

Hutch looked up at Elle, who nodded. 'Um Starsk, they need to run a test on ya bud. They want to see if you can breathe on your own and I want you to give it your best shot. It's fine. If you can't they'll plug the hose back in, but I know you can do this – I know ya can. Just try huh?'

_No! Don't let 'em do that…..please Blondie. I can't – I know I can't….not just sayin' that. He told me – your Dad told me. _Starsky felt hands close to his head and the tube waggled uncomfortably in his throat.

_Fuck! No….please God no. I'm gonna….oh sweet Jesus they did it. I can't….can't breathe. I'm gonna suffocate…..no air….need air….I can't…..HELP MEEEEEE._

Elle held the loose end of the hose and stared for long seconds at the monitor above Starsky's bed. It didn't move, the red light remaining stubbornly lit indicating no breath entering her patient's body. By her side, Hutch held onto Starsky's hand all the tighter, the seconds seeming like hours until Elle had made her decision.

Inside his head, Starsky was screaming and thrashing his body from side to side in agony. He needed a breath. He needed some air in his lungs right now, the pain vying with shear panic. The thrashing of his body translated into the merest twitch of his index finger against Hutch's hand.

'Reconnect it Doc. For pity's sake reconnect it' the blond snapped and Elle immediately pushed the hose back into the machine. Starsky's chest inflated once again and Hutch relaxed marginally.

_Oh thank the Lord! Don't do that to me again huh? Don't ever do that to me. More air….need more…..too slow. The fuckin' machine is too slow._

A single tear escaped the brunet's covered eyes and trickled silently down the side of his face. As Hutch looked down, he saw it and squeezed his friend's hand, wiping away the moisture with his thumb.

'Can you gimme a minute here Doc. Alone?' he asked quietly. Elle nodded. 'We need to start work. I'm gonna go ring the lab boys to see what they've got so far.'

Alone finally, Hutch brushed a stray curl from Starsky's forehead. His buddy felt hot as though a fire were burning inside him and an angry flush marred the handsome face. The pads still covered Starsky's eyes, keeping them closed but his eyes were the windows to Starsky's soul. Hutch had come to read them like a book over the years. They told him more than the brunet's words could ever do and now carefully, Hutch lifted the pads away.

Starsky's eyes remained closed although the brunet was aware of what was going on. He had no control over his lids though and inside his head he whimpered, suddenly scared beyond belief. And then he felt a gentle hand on his face and Hutch raised his lids so that the beautiful golden face came into view and Hutch's earnest crystal blue eyes looked into his indigo blues.

'Hey there partner. I'm right here….aint goin' nowhere. I'm gonna be right here with ya the whole time. I love ya man…..don't forget that. I'm sorry…..so fuckin' sorry, but I'm gonna make it right. I'm gonna make it up to ya. And I need you to fight this Starsk, you got that? Fight huh?'

The gentle fingers let the brunet's eyelids slide closed again and Starsky felt a wash of loss, as though he'd never see Hutch again. The heart rate on the monitor skipped a beat and then carried on its incessant beeping and Hutch patted Starsky's shoulder. 'I got ya partner. I got ya.'

Elle knocked softly on the door to the room and signalled Hutch to follow her outside.

'So? What've ya got?' Hutch asked as he looked back at Starsky's body.

'The boys downstairs have identified everything the book said was in the Imobilaton. It's a real clever drug and it does exactly what it says on the packet – it immobilises – completely.'

'But there's an antidote, right? I mean, there's always an antidote to every drug isn't there?' Hutch asked, a note of panic in his voice.

Sadly Elle shook her head and drew the blond out into the corridor, closing the door behind her. 'Not this time. I'm sorry and the boys are still working on it, but in the mean time, the only treatment I can see being of any use is to put Dave into a medically induced coma while we flush the drug from his system. Even then, I'm not sure if he's ever going to be able to move again.'


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

'There must be something you can do. You've got him in the hospital for God's sake!' Hutch suddenly had a strong feeling of deja vue. He'd said those same words before, to a tall, greying doctor at this very hospital. Then Starsky had had 24 hours to live. Then, Hutch had had time against him to find a cure for his friend, but Starsky, stubborn to the end had been with him almost ever step of the way. This was different. It was almost as though the brunet had died already, or at least that was how Hutch felt the loss and yet Starsky's body lay in the room, its heart beating stubbornly, refusing to give out.

'Believe me Hutch, we're still working on it. We won't give up on Dave, but right now he needs rest. So far as I can tell from the drugs in the cocktail, he's been given a combination of anaesthetics, opiates and what we'd call uppers. He probably hasn't slept in all the time he's been fed the drug, although the mind protects itself by closing down to a dream world to stop going crazy. He needs rest – a complete rest – until the drug is flushed from his system and can start to try to repair itself.'

'So you're just gonna put him to sleep?'

'Kinda, yes. We've not been able to stop the drip feed of the Imobilaton because of possible side effects like seizures, or severe muscle cramps, but we're slowly reducing it. The process would go a lot quicker if Dave were in a medically induced coma. Then we could monitor everything, stop the drug and flush it out of his body with Ringers solution or plain saline. The sooner he's free of the drug completely, the sooner we know what the after effects will be.'

Hutch leaned heavily against the wall, the hours of stress catching up with him finally. He'd held out the hope that the doctors at the hospital would somehow have a miracle cure. He'd given them the composition of the drug after all – what more could they possibly want? Now, however, they were telling him they could still do nothing but reduce Starsky to a living breathing corpse in order to "help" him? Memories of the brunet running down flakes or riding his motor bike, or lovingly polishing his red and white Torino flashed before the blond's eyes. Starsky was young, athletic in a slobbish kind of way. He had his whole life ahead of him and yet he was lying on that bed unable even to breathe on his own. It wasn't right. It was criminal…..and it was Hutch's fault.

The blond blamed himself above everyone else for Starsky's predicament. If his Dad had never met the hellcat brunet he would never have cultivated this love/hate relationship with him. It seemed clear now that while Dr Hutchinson detested Starsky as a cat detests water, he also admired the indomitable spirit and in a warped kind of way paid the curly haired cop a compliment in choosing him to test the drug on – the strongest spirit he could think of.

'How long will you keep him under?' the blond asked softly.

'As long as it takes to run a few litres of saline through him. Maybe two or three days.'

'And in the meantime you can find a cure?' Hutch asked hopefully.

'Let's take one step at a time huh?' Elle dodged the question. 'First of all, we need someone to sign consent to the treatment. Does he have any relatives nearby?'

'Don't need 'em. We have power of attorney for each other. I can sign.'

'Good. I'll get the forms to you right now. The sooner we start with this, the better.'

'I need to talk to him Doc. I need to explain what's goin' on. Can I do that?' Hutch asked.

'We shouldn't really delay….'

'Let me put it another way' the blond smiled. 'No one is laying a finger on him till I've spoken to him. Got that? Once I've talked to him; once I've explained what you're gonna do, then you can put him to sleep.'

Elle smiled back. 'Does he have the same forceful nature as you?'

'And then some' Hutch grinned.

'Good. He'll need every bit of it if he's gonna come through this. Go on. Go and be with him. It'll take me a half an hour or so to get things set up. Explain as much as you can, but don't upset him huh?'

Hutch pulled the door to Starsky's room open and looked back at Elle. 'Do your best Doc.' Walking into the quiet room, the blond waved briefly at Connie, the nurse. 'Can we um….can you leave us for a while? The Doc says it's fine.'

Connie laid a hand on her patient's shoulder. 'Dave, your friend is here. I'm going to go and get some more balm for your lips. They look sore, but I'll be back soon, ok?' The young nurse straightened a minute wrinkle on Starsky's sheets and withdrew leaving the two men alone. In the silence, punctuated only by the steady, reassuring blip from the heart monitor, Hutch regarded his partner's body. Lean….thin after almost two weeks without solid food it seemed unreal that the brunet would not open his eyes, wink a mischievous wink at Hutch and ask when he could go home.

The flaxen haired cop drew a chair up to the side of the bed and settled himself down. Gently he took a hold of Starsky's left hand and rubbed his thumb over the hot, smooth skin feeling the springy hairs flexing against his hand.

'Starsk we gotta stop doin' this partner. I mean once in a lifetime is enough for me to go chasin' around after antidotes for ya. It's getting' to be a habit. Last time you were with me though, almost every step of the way. This time…. God, I miss your voice, even if you do snipe at me most of the time. And this time its all my fault. Can ya hear me buddy?'

_I hear ya Blondie an' I missed your voice too. I'd never tell ya, but I know ya know. Hearin' your voice __in that room after so long in the dark and the quiet….that was the best moment of my life. It was like…I knew I was goin' to be fine. Jeez, I'm glad you can't hear me coz this is soundin' even too sappy for me to hear. But it's true. _

'I wish my Dad had never met you. I wish he'd never laid eyes on ya, but then I wouldn't have met you all those years ago either, would I? Remember the girls huh? Remember the night in the barn? That was hot! Those girls….can't remember their names, but they couldn't get enough of ya. But then you got all beaten up and my Dad…..well my Dad was my Dad, what can I say? Did he hurt ya Gordo? I never asked, but he was never renown for his gentleness.'

_Yeah, he hurt. But it hurt more that you had to go without sayin' bye._

Then we met at the Academy again and….well, here we are. I never thought I'd get a partner like you Starsk. I could never work with anyone else. I aint gonna work with anyone else. We're gonna get through this, you and me. Ya hear me Gordo? You're gonna be fine. Elle is talkin' to the boys in the lab now, but they need time.'

_Time as in?_

'You need rest Starsk. You need time to rest properly. Elle says you probably haven't slept.'

_She's a clever cookie. Is she as pretty as she sounds? So what's she gonna do? How much more rest can I get huh? I've been flat on my back for…..well a long time. But you're right, I feel tired._

'Starsk, Elle wants to help you rest. She um….she wants to – it's not my idea Pal. I know you aint gonna like it but…'

_You're ramblin' Blondie. I hate it when you ramble. It usually means I'm not gonna like what you have to say__. I'm not…..am I? Is it gonna hurt? For Gods sake don't let her disconnect the hose again. So tell me…..huh?_

'Elle thinks that if she can flush the drug out of your system and allow you to rest completely, she can start to heal you.'

_Completely? Um….how "completely" buddy?_

'She wants to put you into a coma….a medically induced coma. It won't hurt Starsk. You won't feel anythin', honest. It'll be just like going to sleep, but better.'

_Coma? No….no no no no no! Please, Hutch not that. I don't wanna sleep. I want to be rid of this drug. I want to move. I want to open my eyes on my own. I wanna talk to you. Shit I want to breathe on my own. Don't let her do this. Don't'. Please?_

The bleeps on the heart rate monitor next to Starsky's bed picked up their pace, the green dot dancing quickly across the screen as Hutch looked up. The numbers on the side of the screen read 72….76…..80…..85 and Hutch squeezed his friend's hand tightly.

'You scared buddy? Don't be. I'm gonna be right here while it happens and I'll be right here when you wake up.'

_And if I don't wake up? You have no idea how I feel right now Blondie. I'm not scared, I'm terrified. I don't want this, I can't. I can't do this, it's too much._

The bleeps continued their fast staccato beat and Hutch put his mouth close to Starsky's ear so that the brunet could feel his warm breath on his skin. 'Starsk, I trust Elle. She's cool. She's smart and she's beautiful and when you wake up, she's all yours buddy. She's doin' what's best for you and I think she's right. I'm gonna be right by your side but I need you to calm down. Don't be scared bud. I know this is tough on ya, but we're gonna get through this together.'

The reading on the monitor dropped from 86 to 80 and then hovered around 75 and Starsky felt Hutch's warm hand on his bare shoulder, the callous across his palm from holding his gun rubbing reassuringly against the brunet's flesh. The touch calmed him as though the blond were somehow transmitting cooling energy through his finger tips.

'Elle's here now Starsk. Remember, I'm gonna be right here with ya. Not goin' anywhere.'

The doctor walked into the room, admiring the way the tall, handsome blond seemed so connected to the man on the bed. In her hand she carried a syringe and a fresh bag of some clear liquid which she hung on the drip stand by the bed.

'Dave, I know Hutch has explained what's going to happen and I'm sure you feel a little scared, but its going to be fine. It's just like going to sleep and in no time, you'll be waking up again and we'll be able to start getting you up and about. Are you ready for this?'

_No, I'm not ready, but I guess you're gonna do it anyway. Might as well get it over with._

Hutch felt the merest twitch of Starsky's finger against the palm of his hand and he smiled.

'Ok Gordo. Sweet dreams huh? Have a good rest buddy. I'll be here when you wake up.'

Starsky heard the familiar voice as though from a distance. As Elle fed the anaesthetic into the drip, the sounds, smells and feel of the real word receded until they were replaced by blackness. For a moment, the brunet's heart lurched in fear and then, as though seeing a sunrise, light seemed to fill his mind and once again he was plunged into a world of dreams and memories.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Hutch watched as the blips on the heart rate monitor decreased until they showed a rate of just sixty per minute. Elle adjusted the drip feed leading into Starsky's right arm and pulled the single sheet down so that she could listen to her patient's chest with her stethoscope.

'Is that it?' Hutch asked quietly. There seemed little change in Starsky's condition other than the drop in heart rate from the high seventies to a steady sixty.

'Yes, that's it. He's now in a deep, deep sleep and we'll keep him like that for a while now. We'll monitor him closely and there will be someone with him most of the time.'

'Too damned right there will. I need a bed, or a sofa or something. Can you fix that?' Hutch asked, looking around the small room.

'I meant there will be a nurse here. Hutch you need your rest too. It's no point hanging around here. Dave won't even be able to hear you right now. He won't know if you're here or not.'

'I'm not leaving him' the blond reiterated aggressively. 'It's my fault he's like this anyhow. I need to be with him.'

Elle walked around the still form on the bed and crouched by the side of the flaxen haired cop. 'You need our rest. You've done good. You found Dave and you got help for him but you're not going to be any use to him when he wakes up if you're too tired. I need you to go home and sleep.'

'But I….'

'No "buts" detective. Right now I'm making this an order' the woman said.

'You can't order me to….'

Elle smiled. 'I know I can't, but I would if I could. Hutch, when Dave comes around……when we wake him up, it isn't going to be a case of him sitting up stretching and then going about his life again. He's damaged. He's going to be weak for sure and we don't know yet whether the drug has left permanent paralysis. The boys in the lab are still working on that. Whatever happens, Dave is going to need you in the days to come. He'll need a fit and healthy friend, not one who looks like a feather would knock him over. Rest. I'll give you a script for some sleeping tablets if you like?'

Hutch snorted. He'd never felt as tired in all his life and he knew that if someone pegged him by his ears onto a clothes line he'd still fall asleep. What Elle said made sense to him although he still hated to leave Starsky's side. The rational part of his brain told him there was nothing he could have done to stop Dr Hutchinson from doing this, and yet whatever the rational part of him said, deep down Hutch blamed himself. Sighing deeply he stood up from the chair.

'Are you this bossy with all your patients?' he asked with a half smile.

Elle grinned back. 'You aint seen nothing yet mister. Now say goodbye to Dave and go. I don't want to see you here for at least 24 hours. If there's any change, I'll ring, I promise but he's in good hands.'

'I know Doc. And thanks.' Hutch bent over the bed and brushed a curl from Starsky's forehead. 'See ya soon partner. Don't go anywhere huh?' Straightening, he took a last lingering look at his buddy and walked out of the room and back down to his car. Getting in, he felt as though the weight of the world were on his shoulders and even the fact that Starsky was safe couldn't shake the feeling he had that things were still far from certain. With another wracking sigh that came up from his toes, Hutch started the engine and started to drive himself back to Venice Place.

As he got to driving along the road past the Metro, however, the mic. on his dashboard crackled into life and Mildred's voice sounded over the airwaves. 'This is central to Zebra Three. Zebra Three pick up please.'

Hutch reached for the mic and depressed the button. 'This is Zebra Three. What gives Mildred?'

'Hutch! How's Starsky?'

'He's in a…..they put him into a coma to see if that would help him. He's….I dunno.'

'I'm sorry hon. I'll be along to see him when he's awake. This is a patch through to Captain Dobey.'

'Thanks honey. Put him through.'

There was another crackle on the line and then a moment later the Captain's not so dulcet tones sounded. 'Hutchinson? How's Starsky? Any news?'

Hutch made as full as report as he could leaving out all but the essential details. He felt tired and the idea of explaining just how sick the drug had made his buddy made the situation seem somehow all the more real. At the end of the short report Dobey huffed, a familiar sound that indicated that the Captain didn't trust himself to say too much but at the same time didn't want Hutch to know how deeply affected he was by one of his men being sick.

'I had a call earlier today' Dobey went on. 'From your Sister.'

'Karen? Shit, I should have called her but in all the rush of getting Starsk to the hospital I forgot.'

'That's ok son. I told her the facts.'

'Thanks. I couldn't stand her yelling at me right now I just need some sleep' Hutch said with feeling.

'Ah….well….'

The blond hesitated. 'Ah well what?' he asked suspiciously.

'Ah well, you might have to grin and bear it. I told her you'd found her Father and um…..well she and your Mother were catching a plane straight away. They needed a ride from LAX so I sent a black and white. They um…..well they should be waiting at your house anytime now.'

'Waiting at….' Hutch groaned loudly 'Oh shit.'

There was a muffled snicker from down the line. 'Good luck' Dobey said. 'Metro out.'

'I'll need it' the blond muttered as he turned the car round the final bend and pulled to a halt outside his apartment. All was quiet outside and for a moment Hutch thought he may have chance to get his thoughts together before meeting the rest of his family. As he got out of the car however, his sister and mother appeared from out of the hairdressers above which he lived. Helene of Chez Helene waved at the handsome blond as Karen stalked over to her brother.

'Hey Sis, this is um….unexpected.'

'I bet!'

'Karen I can explain.'

'Not out here you can't' the angry blond woman snapped and tapped her foot as Hutch fiddled with the key to let himself into his apartment. As he opened the door, his sister and his Mom walked in and while Karen stood fuming at the centre of the room, his Mom perched on the edge of his sofa.

Mrs Hutchinson was everything her husband was not. Standing only 5' tall, she was a tiny woman who weighed no more than 85lbs. Her dark, permed hair framed a small, timid looking face with dark brown eyes peeping from under perfectly shaped brows. A Chanel suit fitted her size four frame perfectly, it's baby blue wool contrasting with her navy blue silk blouse. Mary Hutchinson folded her hands on her lap and looked up at her two children.

Karen faced off against her brother. Both Hutchinsons got their build and colouring from their father. Both were slim with golden tans, pale, wheaten coloured hair and piercing blue eyes but where Hutch's were the colour of a crystal backlit by a sunbeam, Karen's were the colour of a winters sky. Now, those eyes fixed unwaveringly on her brother.

'You knew how worried we were. Mom hasn't slept properly in over two weeks and yet when you do finally find Dad you seem to forget to tell us. What's going on Ken?'

Hutch held up his hand, trying to silence his sister. 'Don't go there Karen. It isn't as simple as that.'

'Not simple? What could be more simple? Dad was missing and you found him. The only thing that isn't simple is why you chose not to tell us.'

'Coz I was at the hospital.'

'With Dad? Is he sick?'

'No, he's not sick….well not physically. I was….'

'If he wasn't sick then why go to the hospital? What's going on Ken? What aren't you telling us? What're you playing at?'

'If you'd shut up I'd tell you' Hutch voice rose higher.

'Don't you tell me to shut up Ken Hutchinson. I'm not the one who left his family worrying a thousand miles away while you sat on your ass in sunny California.'

Hutch's patience finally snapped. 'Yeah that's right Karen. I was sat on my fat ass as you so delicately put it. I was sat on my ass on a hard plastic hospital chair watching my partner fighting for his life. Why? Coz my Dad, your Dad decided to test his magic drug on him and its left him paralysed. You wanted to know why I didn't run to the phone the minute I found him? It's coz I was too busy arresting my own Father. Have you any idea how that feels? Have you? Can you imagine what it feels like to read my own Dad his rights over the body of my best friend? Have you? Huh?'

Suddenly Hutch staggered back, catching his foot on the chair. He swayed, clutched at Karen and then fell, collapsing onto the chair as the colour drained from his face. Immediately Karen knelt by his side, her own face also devoid of colour while Mary Hutchinson let out a muted cry and held her head in her hands.

The room spun for Hutch as he closed his eyes, the days of worry finally catching up with him.

'Oh my God, Ken. I'm so sorry. Why didn't you say before? That's so awful for you. I can't even imagine…. Why didn't you say?'

Slowly Hutch opened his eyes and snickered. 'I couldn't get a word in Poochy.'

'Where's Dad now? And how's Starsky? Will he be ok? Can they do anything for him? How long was he with Dad? What sort of drug was it?'

Wearily Hutch grinned. 'All good questions and in order – At the metro, not good, don't know and Dad had him two weeks. The drug he used is something he developed. He called it Imobilaton.'

'Can the doctors reverse it?' Karen asked gently.

'I don't know…..I just don't know.' Hutch sat forward and rested his brow on his hands. His head ached viciously and he felt sick to his stomach. His eyes, devoid of sleep for so long felt as though they were lined with sandpaper and he shuddered with exhaustion. Without looking up, he felt another hand on his shoulder.

'Come on son. It's time you rested. You've done more than you should have been asked to do. You need to sleep.'

The blond looked up into his Mom's face and smiled tiredly. 'You gonna tuck me in Mom?'

'What else should a Mom do? Go and….'

'I know. Put my Pjs on and brush my teeth' Hutch grinned, parroting the litany he'd heard every night as a boy. He stood and Mary swatted him gently on the rump. 'And don't sass your Mother.'

Between Karen and Mary, the women managed to steer Hutch to the bedroom. His Mom took off his shoes and socks while Karen unbuttoned his shirt. As her hands went to his jeans button Hutch put his own hand over hers. 'S'ok Hon. There are some things I'm not too tired to do.'

Karen giggled. 'It's not like I haven't seen it before.'

'No, except you were 5 and I was 7 and we were both butt naked in our pool. I'm fine. I just need to sleep. I'll be fine.' The blond collapsed sideways onto his bed and his Mom swung his legs up and under the covers. As Karen kissed his head and left, Mary perched on the edge of the bed, her fingers carding through Hutch's silky flaxen bangs. He closed his eyes, revelling for a moment in the gentle caress and sighed.

'I'm sorry Mom. I'm sorry it turned out like this' he mumbled.

'He's not a bad man you know' Mary said softly. 'He's sick Ken. He needs help. I'm just so sorry that David was the one who he fixed on.'

'I know….I just…..don't go Mom. Just stay a while huh?' Hutch's eyes closed and as he drifted into a deep sleep as the gentle fingers continued to soothe him.

Hours later, as the sun started to shine through the partially open curtains in his bedroom, Hutch was woken from his deep sleep by the ringing of the telephone. So deeply had he been sleeping that for a moment he hardly recognised the sound but quickly he came to his senses and dove for the phone, clutching it to his ear.

'Hutchinson.'

'Hutch is that you? It's Elle.'

'Is Starsky ok?'

'He's fine. Still sleeping like a baby. I just um…..well I have news.'

'About the drug?'

'Yes. I'm afraid it's not good news. The lab boys have been working on it for almost a day now but they're no nearer. It's such a complicated drug and although they know the components and they're all fairly common, it's the interactions of one with the other that's causing the huge problems – and what makes it so damned effective. I've just spoken to the head pharmacist and he tells me….. um how is your Dad?'

'My Dad? Why? What's this all about?'

'Hutch the pharmacist thinks that only the man who created the drug….your Dad…..will have any success in creating an antidote.'


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Starsky felt himself drifting away from Hutch. This feeling was different to any feeling he'd had in the whole time Dr Hutchinson had had him. This feeling was warm….comfortable almost. The only thing scaring the brunet was that as he felt himself transported away from his stiff, sore body on a cushion of anaesthesia, he was leaving his partner behind.

Dammit. Hutch had found him. Against the odds, Hutch had found him and rescued him and now against his will, the brunet was being forced to part from his buddy again. It wasn't fair. Not talking wasn't fair either. There were so many things he wanted to tell the blond. He wanted to assure Hutch that he held his partner in no way accountable for what Hutch's father had done to him. In a grotesque sort of way, it was a compliment that the doctor had used Starsky as a subject because he had such an indomitable spirit. Starsky wanted to tell Hutch that he was eternally grateful that he'd been found – that the blond hadn't given up on him. He wanted to apologise for the hurt, the worry he'd caused. He wanted to reassure Hutch that everything was going to be ok, although that last sentiment seemed empty at the moment.

The euphoria of being rescued – of hearing Hutch's voice, of that brief look into his partner's eyes was beginning to wear off a little. Being in the hospital had at first seemed like luxury. Starsky had never really considered just how comforting sheets were and yet as the soft cotton covered his fever ridden body, it seemed to caress him like a lover's hands after two weeks of being butt naked. The pillow beneath his head seemed the softest he'd ever experienced and even the smell of antiseptic – the one thing he usually hated about hospitals more than anything else – seemed oddly comforting after the dry musty smell of the old Nodding Pines facility.

But soon, the small comforts had given way once again to the pains wracking his body. With no way to let anyone know how he felt, Starsky was left to once again endure the pains in his head, the vicious pins and needles in his extremities and the heat of the fever burning through his body alone. Everything hurt. His joints hurt and he longed to flex his arms and legs…..or even just his hands and fingers. His neck felt as though it was frozen into one place and would never move again. His back, especially low down was one glowing miasma of pain and his stomach felt as though he'd been drinking battery acid for days.

He'd endured for so long that stupidly; innocently Starsky thought that as soon as he got to the hospital, they would be able to give him a shot and put things right immediately. Being paralysed this way was even more insufferable after believing that he'd been saved and once again his mind started to shut down to protect itself from the horrors of his situation but as Starsky started to dream, the nature of his memories changed. In a mirror image of his rescue, so too his dreams turned to the future….to how he himself had changed from the handsome hellcat of his teens into the young man ready to join up and serve Uncle Sam.

_David lay in the quiet room for two days. He was alone – in solitary confinement. It was the punishment Dr Hutchinson had recommended to the executive of the facility for his infraction of the centre's rules. As it turned out though, the punishment was more of a relief to the young man after the beating he'd received earlier._

_David's ribs were so sore he found it difficult to breathe despite the nine inch loop of hell taped around them. Although he'd been in enough fist fights at school to know how to take care of himself, four onto one was hardly an equal fight and with his badly sprained ankle hindering him further he'd had no chance to defend himself properly. He'd simply tried to protect his vulnerable stomach and avoid serious internal injuries – and he'd survived. His saviour had been Hutch and although a good fighter, David knew he wouldn't have lasted more than a minute longer of the blond hadn't turned up. In a way, hutch had save him from serious injury – maybe even death – and yet David had no way to thank his friend. He felt the loss of the golden haired boy keenly. Despite only having known him for a couple of days, he felt connected somehow and had an unshakable conviction that somewhere along life's path, they'd meet again._

_Unable to take any but the most shallow of breaths or to move more than a foot in any direction without the knife-like pains in his chest taking away his breath_, _David lay quietly on his bed and thought about his past and his future. _

_He realised now that his Uncle and Aunt had tried everything else at their disposal to make David realise what he was doing to himself. The 16 year old had such a burning need to fit in – with his family; with his peers; with everyone that it became a way of life to look for a gang and fight for acceptance. For so long he'd felt out of step with the world, as though he needed to prove himself at every turn. It was exhausting and it stemmed directly from his expulsion from New York he realised now._

_Despite trying to be the man of the house after his Dad was killed, David had still needed his friends. Some of the boys taunted him unmercifully because instead of going to the ball park after school, he instead trudged his way home to take care of his younger brother while his Mom returned from work. He made the evening meal and he laid the fire and lit it. He supervised Nicky while his younger brother did his homework whilst David's own schooling was ignored. At barely 14 it was no life for a boy. Rachel Starsky realised that and when the chance came to send her eldest to sunny California, with its beaches, year round sunshine and better standard of living, the tiny woman jumped at the chance of giving David a new start._

_The young David had not been so pleased however and had seen it as a punishment of sorts. Why hadn't Nicky come too? Why had his Mom sent him away? Didn't she love him any more? That was how the young curly haired boy had thought for the past two years. He'd tried his best to fill his Dad's shoes and yet he hadn't been good enough and because of that, his Mom sent him away. She'd never really explained why; she'd never talked to him about it, she'd merely bought a train ticket, packed his bags for him and waved him off at the station while Nicky stood tearfully at her side. She'd abandoned him because he was useless, or so he'd come to think but now, laying in his bed nursing his injuries, he had time to consider and pretty soon he came to realise that it was his hot Latin temper and his stupid pride that caused most of his problems and it was probably those two things that had given his Mom, and lately his Aunt and Uncle their headaches too. Sure, he'd looked after Nicky. Sure, he'd tried to be the man about the house, but he'd also smoked weed, run with a gang who were involved in a series of robberies and had skipped school more times than he'd attended. Being sent away was his own fault. Being here was his own fault and until he realised that and quelled his temper, he'd return time and again to facilities like this._

_He hated Nodding Pines. _

_He hated the locked doors._

_He hated the doctor who'd none too gently taken care of his injuries._

_He hated that he'd not been able to say goodbye to Hutch._

_He hated himself, but he knew he could change that. There and then, David vowed he'd fight with his temper and learn to control it. If nothing else, Nodding Pines had taught him the value of family and friends – true friends, not the sort he ran with in the gangs._

_On the second day, after seeing only a nurse who came to give him pain meds and his meals, the door to David's room opened quietly and Henry peeped in. Cautiously, the tall man closed the door quietly behind him and grinned at the boy._

'_How's the prisoner doin'?' he asked._

'_About how you'd expect. Bored out of my tree and sore as hell. I don't suppose you've come to let me outa here?'_

'_Uh uh. The big bad Doctor wolf won't hear of it, but I have good news for you.'_

_David raised his eyebrows. 'Don't tell me, its strawberry Jel-o instead of orange for supper.'_

'_Hey what's up with orange? It's my favourite!'_

'_Then please feel free to steel mine' the boy snorted._

_Henry's face creased into laughter. 'I came to tell you that you're to have a visitor.'_

'_Who?'_

'_John will be here within the hour.'_

'_John? Blaine? I phoned him but I thought he'd ignored me' David said, a tiny touch of excitement colouring his voice._

'_No, it's just taken time for the committee to decide whether you're able to go home' Henry explained. 'He wanted to come up here two days ago, but they wouldn't let him until they'd discussed your case.'_

'_My case huh? and what did the powers that be decide?'_

_Henry got up from the bed. 'I'll let John explain. He seems a good man. You're lucky to have a friend like that David.'_

'_I know, I just don't think he realises how much I respect him. He's a cop and I was thinkin' maybe some day I could…..ya know.'_

_The tall man put his head on one side. 'I think you'd make a great cop David. I'll send John in when he arrives.'_

_Once again, the boy was left alone with his thoughts, but this time they turned to home. He was going to try hard to behave. No more gangs, no more fights, no more girls._

Oh hey, don't get carried away Davey!

_David snickered to himself. Some things he wouldn't give up. He was still half smiling when the door opened suddenly and the nurse showed John Blaine into the room. David tried to sit up straighter in his bed and he smiled at the older man. The nurse closed the door and there was the sound of a key turning in the lock. John frowned and came to sit down on the bed._

'_What the hell happened here?' he asked with barely disguised anger. David mistook it for anger at him and his heart plummeted to his feet._

'_I'm sorry John. It wasn't my fault, I didn't start it, honest. I was….'_

'_I don't mean that Davey. I mean why the locked door? How the hell did you come to be so badly injured. Here, let me see.' The big cop pulled the sheet down from David's chest and grunted at the tape around his chest. Black bruises showed above and beneath the white tape and some cuts, grazes and scrapes showed red across his sides and back. Gently John traced the outline of a large bruise that spread from David's jaw up the side of his face towards his eye and ended in a cut beneath his left eyelid. The boy hissed and pulled away._

'_My God Davey! What happened?' John murmured. 'I've seen grown men in better shape than this after gun fights. 'Who did this, and why are you being locked up?'_

'_Dunno.'_

_John put his hand under David's chin and raised it so that he could look the boy in the eye. 'Who did it?'_

'_Don't know their names. There were four of 'em.'_

'_Four? How the hell did you….'_

'_I had help. I had a friend – he saw 'em off.'_

'_Had a friend?' John asked._

'_Uh huh. Had. It was the doctor's son and um….he got sent home. I don't think the Doc likes me too much an' I have to say the feeling is mutual.'_

'_You sure have a way with people don't ya boy?' John grinned. Standing up, the man straightened. 'Ok son, get yourself ready. I'll have the nurse bring your outdoor clothes. Get yourself dressed. I'm taking you home, just as soon as I've spoke with this doctor guy.'_

_David sighed. 'Don't make trouble John. Just leave it. I got what I deserved and I learned a lesson. I just wanna get outa here. I want to see Rosey and Al again.'_

'_Yeah, and they want to see you. Al's been beating himself up over you for a week now. he won't rest till you get back home. Meantime, I need to deal with the doctor.'_

'_No. Don't John. Please?' David struggled to get out of the bed._

'_I just want to get dressed and go. I don't want to see the guy ever again. Least said and all that.'_

_John looked quizzically at the tall boy. 'You don't want me to say anything?'_

'_Nuthin. Just leave it.'_

_The cop smiled. 'I don't know what they did to you here, but you've changed Davey.'_

_David grinned. 'Not too much. How's about a dog with everythin' on the way back home huh?'_


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Hutch put down the phone and scrubbed his fingers through his sleep mussed hair. Peachy, just peachy! The only person able to do anything for Starsky was the one man who'd injured him in the first place and the one man Hutch really didn't want to have to face at that moment.

Conflicting emotions continued to confuse the blond. Yes, this was his Dad – the man he'd looked up to all these years and yes, he'd been a real pain for most of Hutch's life, but it was still his Dad. Richard Hutchinson had been driven – driven by the need to succeed, the need for power and the need to achieve the sort of social status he felt was owed to him. Nothing else mattered to the older Hutchinson. Having dragged himself up from what he classed as a poor background with an average education, he strove to give his children and his wife what he felt he should have had as a boy. Hutch's grandparents had been farmers. They'd worked the land and reared beasts for sale and had never taken handouts from the state in all that time. Even during the depression, they'd lived off the land and prided themselves on never having had a government handout in all the time they'd lived. They were good, honest, down to earth country folk who loved their son. Unfortunately, while Richard Hutchinson loved his Mom and Dad, he despised how they lived and vowed to climb the social ladder. Medicine was the perfect way to do it.

Driven by a thirst for all the good things in life, Richard had tried to steer his son and daughter in the same direction and for a while Hutch had indeed gone to medical school until it all became too much for him and, at the age of 23, the blond rebelled once and for all, quit school, packed his bags and applied to join the police academy in Bay City. The location suited him. It was far enough away from his Father for Richard to be unable to interfere (or so Hutch thought) and the climate suited Hutch's love of the outdoors. Yet despite the distance, Richard still interfered and Hutch's feelings for his Dad turned from irritation to downright hate. That hate was fuelled now by what the doctor had done to Hutch's best friend, but the hate was still tempered by one thing – loyalty – to his family; to his parents; to the care (albeit hamfisted) that he'd always received.

It would have been so much easier if Hutch had been able to simply ignore his Dad. It would have been less of a strain if he'd been able to leave the investigation in the hands of someone else and the blond had made up his mind after the arrest that he wouldn't see his Dad again.

Now, with that one short phone call, all Hutch's carefully laid plans were shattered. He shuddered at the thoughts of having to face his Dad again, not least because this time, he was at a disadvantage. This time, he would be asking for a favour. This time, once again, the elder Hutchinson would have the upper hand and that made Hutch feel sick to his stomach.

The blond started to get dressed feeling as though the weight of the world were on his shoulders. Starsky's life depended on how he approached his Dad and yet all he really wanted to do was yell and rant at Hutchinson senior. That, however, would not be helpful he acknowledged. He needed the softly, softly approach, he was just uncertain if he could pull it off and keep his real feelings buried. Plunging his feet into his soft suede boots, he angrily pulled the laces tight, stood up, placed his shield and cuffs in his pocket and pulled on his holster. The weight of his gun, hanging beneath his left arm felt oddly reassuring. He wouldn't use it, that was a given, and yet the Colt was so much a part of him that the sheer weight and presence seemed to give the blond a confidence boost. Pulling his black leather jacket on and stopping for a moment to check the gun didn't show beneath the jacket, Hutch pulled the door closed and set off down the steps from his apartment and out to his car.

The drive down to the Metro was so familiar that the blond drove almost on auto pilot. The morning sun shone in through the wind shield between the flattened bugs splattered across the glass and made Hutch narrow his eyes against its glare. Somehow it seemed wrong that the weather should be so perfect when he had such a horrible task ahead of him. He squirted water on the windshield and the bug corpses smeared across the glass. Hutch cursed, squirted more water and left the wipers running until they squeaked across the slick windshield. Looking through the cleared glass, the Metro came into sight and Hutch pulled up outside the front in the space Starsky usually occupied. With a heavy heart, he got out, walked up the stone steps and through the building to the cell complex at the back.

The custody sergeant looked up as Hutch pushed open the office door. He smiled. 'Hey Hutch, what can I do for you?'

'I need to see Da…..Richard Hutchinson.'

'He's got visitors at the moment.'

'Huh?'

'Your Mom and your sister.'

The blond sighed. 'You want me to wait?' he asked.

The sergeant shook his head. 'They've had their time. Go on down, you know where it is. Hutch?' the blond paused and the sergeant carried on. 'I'm sorry for…..well, this can't be easy for ya. I'm just….you know where I am if you need anything.'

'I know and thanks' the blond replied. The sergeant indicated the door behind him and Hutch nodded his thanks as he walked past and down the long corridor like a condemned man walking the final walk. As he got to his Dad's cell, he pulled himself together mentally and opened the door. Mary and Karen looked up in surprise but Richard seemed unaware of his third visitor.

'Are you alright son? We didn't want to disturb you, you were sleeping so peacefully' Mary said, standing up to kiss her eldest child.

'I'm fine. Mom, I need a while with Dad…..alone. There's something I need to ask him.'

'Ask? Is there a problem? Is David alright?'

'It's about Starsky, yeah. He's the same – no change. Mom? Please? I won't be long.' The "I hope" hung on the air at the end of the sentence.

The small woman nodded. 'We'll wait outside' she said. 'Come on Karen, leave your brother and Dad alone.'

Karen's eyes narrowed. As she stood she passed close to her brother and hissed in his ear. 'He's sick Ken. Don't make things worse.'

'Worse? How could I do that? Starsky could die. How much worse can it be?' he snapped angrily.

The blond woman glared at him 'You know what I mean' she hissed again and followed her Mom outside. Warily, Hutch looked at his Dad, wondering what to expect.

Richard Hutchinson seemed to have shrunk in some indefinable way. He sat slumped on the hard chair, his elbows planted on the table in front of him and his head in his hands. He neither looked up nor acknowledged that Hutch had come into the room and quietly the blond sat down on a chair opposite trying to swallow down his still simmering anger.

'Dad' he said quietly.

Richard didn't look up and Hutch tried a little louder. 'Dad.'

This time, his voice seemed to penetrate and the senior Hutchinson's head rose and he blinked as though bringing himself back from a dream. 'Kenneth? When did you get here? Have you come to get me out of here?'

Hutch's stomach lurched and he took a moment to compose himself. 'No, I've come to ask you something.'

'Why won't you get me out of here? I don't belong here. They're treating me like some dirty criminal. I order you to do something about it.' Richard's voice got louder and more determined and some of the old Hutchinson confidence returned.

'I can't do that Dad.'

Dr Hutchinson sat up straighter in his chair. 'Of course you can. You're a policeman aren't you? Tell them they should let me go. I demand it Kenneth. Make at least some use of your chosen career path.' The last words were said with a sneer in his voice and Hutch's hands balled into fists under the table. The blond tried his best to keep his temper and he tried again.

'Dad, I need you to do something for me.'

'For you? Why?'

'I don't know. For a hundred different reasons, but for starters try because I'm your son' Hutch snapped.

'No son of mine would yell at his Father like that. If I didn't feel so lousy I'd slap your face for using that tone with me.'

'And no Dad of mine would take an innocent human being and treat him like a laboratory animal' Hutch yelled, his lips white with anger.

'Oh, I see what this is about. It's my drug. You're jealous of the success aren't you? I told you I did it for the family. I did it to provide financial security for us son. I did it to make you proud.'

'I am proud Dad. I've always been proud of you. I admire your drive and determination. You have a genius I could never hope to have, but I need you to exercise some compassion now also.'

'Compassion? How? Why? Explain yourself.'

Hutch sighed. He felt as though he were arguing himself round in circles whilst the clock ticked away the seconds of Starsky's life. He tried again. 'The doctors at the hospital….they need your help Dad.'

Richard narrowed his eyes. 'Is someone sick?'

The blond cop's jaw swung open in disbelief. 'Yeah, someone is sick. My partner. Dave Starsky? The man you kidnapped. The man you drugged with your so called wonder drug.'

Richard shook his head, smiling at his son as though he were looking at an idiot. 'He's not sick Kenneth. He's just quiet, as he should be. He's helped me prove to the world just how effective Imobilaton is.'

'He can't fuckin' move! He can't breathe on his own. How much sicker could he be? God dammit Dad, he needs help and the irony is, you seem to be the only one who can reverse the effects.' Hutch was on his feet now, the chair toppling back as he stood. The noise seemed to make Richard jump and he looked up in genuine bewilderment.

'But….why? He's the living proof of….'

'He aint livin' Dad. He's existing. There's a world of difference. He never asked for this. Hell, he tried to like you but you'd never let him get close. You kidnapped him and you turned him into a corpse almost. I'm asking you…..no. I'm pleading with you to help. Please?'

'I can't' the words were said in a flat monotone as though Dr Hutchinson had tuned out of the conversation.

'Can't, or won't?' Hutch snapped.

'Whichever you need to believe.'

The flaxen haired man stared at his Father as though seeing a monster. His only thought was that he wanted to punch his Dad into the middle of next week and he came within a hair's breadth of doing so. Sense prevailed though and at the last minute, he bolted for the door of the cell, slammed it closed behind him and stood with his back to the wall, his head back and his eyes closed. As though from a distance he heard his Moms voice.

'Are you alright son?'

'No.'

'Tell me.'

'He won't help. He's the only man who can find an antidote to the drug and he won't help and Starsky's gonna die. I tried but I lost it Mom. He won't listen to me. He never, ever listened to me and now…..'

'He's sick Ken. He can't help it.'

'He wasn't too sick to destroy a man's life and mine with it. I swear Mom, if Starsky di…..if he doesn't recover, a piece of me will die with him.'

'Don't say that Ken' Karen said desperately. 'Please don't say that.'

'I don't know what else to say Sis. He's as much a part of my life as ….I don't know. It's like I could never do the job I do without him. We know each other so well, we trust each other so much and I feel like this is all my fault. All because of….him' the blond nodded his head at the cell door. Again Hutch closed his eyes and swayed on his feet before leaning heavily on the wall .

Quietly Karen slipped into the room as Hutch and his Mom talked softly. The tiny woman wrapped her arms around her son's waist and hugged him, reaching up to stroke her fingers through his hair as she felt his body shaking in anger. They stayed that way, close together for almost five minutes before a soft voice behind them called Hutch's name.

'Ken?' Karen said gently. 'Dad has something he wants to say.'

'I can't Karen. I can't hear him no more. I can't' Hutch whispered, leaning once again on the wall.

'I think you need to hear this Hon.'

Slowly Richard Hutchinson shuffled to the door of the cell and looked out. 'Kenneth, Karen has explained just how much this means to you and how it would make you even more proud of I could find an antidote. I'm willing to give it a shot.'


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Elle looked in through the window of the laboratory. It had been almost 24 hours since Hutch, Karen and the two senior Hutchinsons had come back to Memorial hospital and the doctor had been taken away to the laboratory to start his work. All the men in the lab had been impressed and a little scared by the ferocity and attention to his work that Dr Hutchinson had. He focused solely on the work in hand, snapping commands over his shoulders, stopping occasionally to pinch the bridge of his nose and massage the tight muscles at the back of his neck and cursing at a sudden noise or burst of conversation in the room.

Elle gave the remaining members of the Hutchinson family regular updates on the progress – or lack of it – and each time, Hutch would get up, pace the room and look ever more weary. Finally his patience snapped and he turned angrily.

'He aint tryin' I know him. He's gonna look like he's workin' his socks off, but he's gonna be wasting time.'

'Ken! How can you say that? he hasn't taken a break in 18 hours' his sister reprimanded.

'Oh c'mon Karen. We all know he hated Starsky from the minute he first saw him. what motive has he got for finding a way to reverse his wonder drug huh?'

'He has you' the younger Hutchinson said quietly. Hutch snickered.

'Me? What the hell do I have to do with it? He wouldn't even talk to be yesterday, let alone consider helping.'

'He wants to make you proud. He's been telling you that all along' Karen insisted. 'He needs your approval just as much as you need his.'

The cop's eyebrows rose. 'Approval huh? When did I…'he got no further as Karen smiled at him knowingly.

'You've always wanted his approval Ken. Always. The two of you are more alike than you care to let on. You both want to be the best you possibly can be and believe it or not, you both want to help people.'

'Although I generally don't go round druggin' strangers and paralysing 'em' Hutch snorted. 'Fine, so he wants to make me proud. It still don't think he's working to find a cure. I bet he's just….'

Hutch was cut off by the door opening and Elle coming into the room. She had a smile on her face although there were black rings under her eyes and she sat down on the arm of one of the chairs. The three others looked expectantly.

'We've had a breakthrough. We aren't home and dry yet, but its time to start waking Dave from his coma so that by the time he's back with us we can try out the antidote on him.'

Hutch lifted his hand. 'Hold on a minute Doc. Don't you you need to um……I dunno, don't you need to test it first? I mean what if it makes things worse? What if it doesn't work properly?'

Elle turned her gaze on the blond. 'Who would we test it on Hutch? Do you have someone else who's been given the Imobilaton?'

'No, but surely…..'

'We have no way to know until we give it to Dave. But I have every reason to think it will work to reverse the effects.'

Hutch took Elle by the arm and led her outside the room, closing the door behind him. 'I don't think you understand Doc. The man who's just given you this magic bullet is the same man who just happened to take my partner in the first place and fee ditto him. There's not a whole lot of love lost between my Dad and Starsky.

Elle nodded. 'I understand your concerns, but we've looked at the drug that Dr Hutchinson has come up with and believe me, if I didn't think it had a fighting chance of success, I wouldn't allow them to use it on a patient of mine. Dave's a fighter and the drug should begin to work. What more can I say?'

The cop shrugged his shoulders. 'He's the best friend I ever had. We watch each others backs. Always have done and always will do and right now I'm watching his back the only way I know how. Just make him better huh?'

Elle reached up and softly caressed Hutch's face, her fingers trailing a line of fire down his cheek. She stood up on tip toe and gently kissed him. 'I've given the go ahead and they've already started to wake him. it'll take a few hours, maybe even a day, but by the, we should be ready. Are you? Do you trust me?'

'Yeah, I trust you, I'm just not sure if I trust Dad' Hutch said heavily. 'I need to go and be with him.'

'You need more rest. He won't wake up for at least another eight hours. I need you to go home and be back bright and early tomorrow huh? That's when he's going to need your friendship and strength. Now go.'

Meekly Hutch grinned. 'God you're wonderful when you're masterful' he breathed and returned the kiss Elle had given him. 'Remember, if anything happens…..'

'You'll be the first to know' the woman agreed and watched as Hutch collected his Mom and sister from the small visitors room and set off home for the night.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Something different was happening to David Starsky. For what seemed like a hundred years, his mind had been still, giving him time to truly rest for the first time in an age. The blackness and the silence had been like salve to his injured body and mind and had worked some of their magic on his consciousness but now he felt once again that he was awakening from a deep pit of sleep.

For a moment, Starsky thought he'd had one hell of a nightmare. He thought he'd dreamed that he'd been trapped by a mad, Dr Frankenstein figure who had tied him down and given him drugs to keep him quiet. He vividly remembered dreams taking him back to his younger years, the common thread through all of them being his constant companion Hutch.

Slowly, as the deep black dreamless sleep seeped away, Starsky' mind started to engage again and for a moment he wondered why it was dark. Hell, he must have slept in! Hutch would be so mad at him if he was late for work again and the brunet realised he should probably get out of bed and get a shower. He tried to fling the bedclothes back from his body and swing his legs over the side of the bed. He tried to sit up and reach for his watch. He tried to raise his head from the pillow and then the full horror struck again. This was no nightmare, this was reality in all its painful, repulsive reality.

As he processed the information and tried to take it in, Starsky began to wonder what was dream and what was reality? The reality, he knew was that he couldn't move and hadn't been able to for some time, but where was he? He thought he remembered Hutch rescuing him, but was that reality, or was that a dream? Was he in an unknown place or was he in the hospital? And if he was in the hospital, where was Hutch?

Without the power of speech, he couldn't call from his friend and then, horror of horrors, he felt hands on his body. They centred on the middle of his body, at the level of his abdomen and seemed to be travelling south. They left behind them a wet trail and Starsky's mind recoiled. What was happening now? What was going on with him? What new horrors were in store? The hands moved to his cock and moved it and the catheter to one side, the wetness returning to his groin and inside his head Starsky screamed his defiance and fear into the dark.

The only outward sign of the brunet's return to some sort of sensibility was in increase in the frequency of the blips on the screen of the heart monitor and Connie, the nurse looked up in alarm from her task of giving the handsome patient a bedbath. She put down the wash cloth, rang the nurse call bell by the side of Starsky's bed and leaned over the inert body.

'It's ok Dave, it's me, Connie, the nurse. You're safe in the hospital remember? You're fine….you're going to be fine.' Gently she put a hand on the naked warm shoulder and patted it reassuringly.

Inside his prison of flesh Starsky calmed himself, the hands on his body gentling his fears rather than hurting him.

_Connie? Oh, yeah, Connie. Remember ya now honey. What happened huh? Where's Hutch?_

Another person came into the room and there was a hushed conversation that Starsky could barely hear. Finally, the second person came close to him and there was a movement close to his face. The gauze pad covering his eyes was removed and gentle fingers raised his eyelid. The world blurred, irritated by the light after his world of darkness and then a pretty face came into focus and he fixed on the deep moss green eyes above him.

'Dave, hey! I'm the doctor – Elle. Do you remember? Everything is going to be ok and I need you to rest up some.'

_As if I'm gonna jump up and play a game of basketball! Sure doc. Whatever you say._

'You've been in a coma for two days Dave. We needed you to rest while we tried to get an antidote together and we think we've come up with something, but you need to be fully free of the anaesthetic first. We'll give you the drug in the morning, but for now you need to rest.'

Elle let the intensely blue eye slide closed again and Starsky went back to his world of darkness. He longed to ask where Hutch was. He longed to ask a thousand questions. What was the drug? Would he be ok? Would it take long to work? Would he be fine?

Starsky had never been a man to rely on others to help him, just the reverse in fact and being here in the hospital while someone fed him, changed him, bathed him and even breathed for him was almost more than he could bear. He wished he could be out there on the streets with Hutch by his side. He longed to feel the heat of the summer sun, the hot leather of the Torino's steering wheel in his hands and the weight of his gun next to his ribs. There were so many things that Starsky missed, but the one at the top of his list was Hutch, the man who was the core of his life.

How long had it been since he'd seen him? Elle said he'd been out of it for two days and yet it seemed like a lifetime. Just like it seemed like a lifetime since he'd met Hutch again at the police Academy seven years ago.

'_Is my tie straight? I can't get it straight. Why d'we have to wear ties anyway? We won't when we're out there.' Hutch whined as he fiddled with the limp black piece of material draped around his neck._

_Starsky tapped his friend's hands out of the way and grasped the tie, flinging one side over the other with practiced ease. 'Ya know that's what I can't understand' he muttered as he deftly straightened the knot and pulled it to the centre of Hutch's shirt._

'_What? What don't you understand?'_

'_I don't understand how someone with the grace of a wet walrus and the eruditeness of a deaf mute can graduate the police academy top of his class' Starsky said standing back to admire the results of his efforts._

'_Who's that?' the blond asked innocently, pulling his collar down and smoothing the black material. Suddenly the words sunk in and he landed a friendly punch on Starsky's shoulder._

'_How could a "thick as two short planks" Jewish kid from the back of beyond graduate second in the same class?'_

'_It's a fluke. I copied your paper, and it aint the back of beyond, Brooklyn is the centre of the known universe. C'mon we're gonna be late for….' Starsky's words were cut short by a knock on the room door. Hutch grinned and shouted "come in"._

_The door to Hutch's bedroom opened and a tall, blond haired man stood in the doorway._

'_Dad!' Hutch's voice sounded genuine surprise and as Dr Hutchinson walked into the room he was followed by a small, bird-like lady who peeped around her husband's body and smiled._

'_We didn't want to miss your big day son' Mrs Hutchinson said and came forward to embrace the blond._

'_Hmm, both of you?' Hutch asked, looking at his Father. Dr Hutchinson nodded._

'_Good to meet you again Sir. And Mrs Hutchinson' Starsky said, holding out his hand to the tall man. Richard Hutchinson looked at it as though it was something that had just crawled out of the primordial ooze, ignored it completely and spoke to Hutch._

'_A word Kenneth. Outside.'_

_Hutch followed his Dad outside the room while Starsky stood uncomfortably looking at Mrs Hutchinson and wishing he could be elsewhere. Outside the room Dr Hutchinson's voice could be heard quite clearly._

'_I've spoke with the Chief of Police and he agreed that you shouldn't be placed in undue danger son. I mentioned that you had some medical knowledge and that maybe a place in forensics might be better suited to you.'_

'_You did what? Oh for pete's sake Dad.'_

'_Kenneth I will not have you mixing with criminals and not just criminals but….unsocial people.'_

_Hutch's voice got more angry. 'As in…..'_

'_As in that person you trained with.'_

'_Starsky. His name is David Starsky and he's one of the best people I've ever met.'_

'_He's not our sort of person Kenneth and you know it.'_

'_and what is our sort of person Dad? The sort that gives dinner parties and has more than a million in the bank?'_

'_The sort that has some education and isn't…..Jewish' the doctor's voice sounded loudly inside the room and Mrs Hutchinson looked at the ground uncomfortably. Starsky decided he didn't want to hear any more and walked from the room, passing the two warring Hutchinsons on the way. 'See ya on the parade ground buddy' he muttered as he passed._

'_I'm coming Starsk.'_

'_Kenneth? Come back this instant, I haven't finished' Dr Hutchinson shouted at his son's retreating back._

'_I have Dad, well and truly. I'm gonna go and say hi to Mrs Starsky. She appreciates me, even though I am from a different background. You know, you could learn a lot from her Dad. I'll say bye to Mom before you leave.'_

The dream faded leaving Starsky feeling sad and angry. Whatever he'd done at Hutch's Dad had lasted such a long time and affected the blond as much as Starsky. Somehow, he knew he needed to make it right. Somehow he had to fight to get back to health.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Hutch tossed and turned on his bed that evening, trying to think of something other than the fact that tomorrow was "the" day. Tomorrow Starsky would receive the new drug and hopefully the Imobilaton would be reversed and he'd start to recover. It seemed so long since he'd heard that diluted New York brogue and seen the twinkle in indigo coloured eyes even though he'd been sitting with the brunet for two whole days.

Damn his Dad.

Fuck the whole damned lot of 'em. Bellamy, Mad George Prudholm, Richard Hutchinson – they were all the same. All they wanted to do was to end Hutch's partnership with Starsky in any way they could and Hutch was tired of it. Thoughts of quitting the force ran through his head and yet, at the back of his mind he knew that if he quit, his Dad would have, in some small way, won the battle. Hutchinson pride was not the sole territory of the Senior man and there was no way that the blond cop would accede to his Dad's wishes. No, he'd go on – just so long as Starsky could continue at his side.

_Aww c'mon Kenny! Don't start thinkin' like that. he's gonna be fine. Elle will have checked every step of the way._

_But it's your Dad that's formulated the antidote. He hates Starsky. Would he harm him again?_

_No!.....yes…..oh Jeez how the hell do I know? It's Starsky's only choice right now and if it goes wrong, there won't be a need for a Judge and jury – I'll kill the sucker myself, even if it is my own flesh and blood._

The pillow beneath his blond head was hot and angrily Hutch turned it over, ploughing his fist into it to make it comfortable and relieve some of his anxiety. Still, even with the cool linen beneath him sleep eluded him and finally, just before midnight, the blond rose, got dressed and headed out of the bedroom. He paused long enough to write a note for Karen and his Mom explaining where he'd gone and then he grabbed his keys, walked down the steps and out to his car. He needed company and he needed oblivion and there was only one place he could get the two.

The evening air caressed his overheated skin like a lover. Hutch had always enjoyed Californian nights when it was cooler and quieter and away from the city he could look up at the stars. Tonight however, celestial lights were not the first thing on his mind. He felt a compulsion to be with Starsky tonight. He yearned to hear his partner's voice and even if the brunet was unable to answer back, Hutch was determined that his partner would not be alone. Somehow he sensed Starsky was listening to him and in any event it didn't matter. He had things to say.

Making one brief stop along the way to Memorial, Hutch pulled into the parking lot of the big white hospital, secreted the bottle of bourbon down the front of his jacket and walked into the building, taking the elevator up to the third floor. He walked past the nurses' station and whispered a brief hello to the women on duty and as he continued along to Starsky's room, he saw a familiar white coated figure coming in the opposite direction. Elle paused and gave the blond a quizzical look as she stopped outside her patient's room.

'I didn't expect to see you here. I thought I told you to go and get some rest.'

'Didn't expect you to be burning the midnight oil either' Hutch smiled. 'Is Starsk ok?'

'He's fine. He's come around from the anaesthetic just fine and we've moved his schedule up a few hours. I was just about to give him his first shot of antidote.'

The blond's face fell. 'You were gonna give him the drug without tellin' me? Why?' he asked angrily.

Elle looked confused. 'I don't understand. It's just the first shot. It'll take more than that to…..'

'I don't care a flyin' fig how many shots it takes! You promised to tell me if there was any change. You don't understand Doc. We've been through a helluva lot together – he's been sicker than most men twice his age. So have I come to that. But whatever happens, we're there for each other. Always. Every time. I need to be there when you give him the shot. I have to be there.'

Elle smiled, touched by the closeness of the two men. She nodded. 'I'm sorry. Yes, I did promise and I should have told you. Are you happy that we proceed now?'

Hutch took a deep breath. 'I guess so' he said heavily, unsure of he was ready or not. 'Go for it.'

'There are some things I need to warn you about, some things that will occur.'

'Why do I get the feeling I'm not gonna like 'em' Hutch grunted.

Elle sighed. 'You have to remember that Dave has been immobile for quite some time. When the antidote takes hold, he's going to experience some pain from his joints and his muscles – they've been in one position for so long and calcium builds up. We um…..well until we know what the effects of the antidote will be, we don't want to give him any other drugs, even painkillers. He's gonna be in some discomfort and he may even spike a fever. Once we know that the antidote is working properly we'll be able to give him something but he'll need a friend during the initial stages.'

'And he'll have it' Hutch agreed 'but it seems barbaric to leave him in pain. Are you sure this is safe?'

Elle shrugged her shoulders and sighed. 'It's the best we can do to begin with and it's as safe as we can make it, but this is a prototype, you have to understand that. No one is quite sure what will happen.'

'And there's no other way?' Hutch asked, feeling as though he were clutching at straws.

Elle shook her head. 'No' she said gently. 'This is his only option as I see it. Shall we?' she indicated the door and together they walked in.

Starsky sensed the change in air temperature and heard footfalls. Accustomed as he was to his partner, his heart leapt as he recognised the slight squeak of Hutch's left brogue and the distinctive click of Elle's heel on the tile floor. The doctor stopped at her patient's side and placed a hand on his naked shoulder.

'Dave, we think we have the antidote to the drug you've been given. We're ready to give you the first shot and after that we'll be monitoring you very closely. Hutch is here and he'll be right by your side, ok?'

Inwardly Starsky swallowed hard, although of course he could do nothing in reality. So, this was it – come hell or high water, he'd know something in a few hours – whether he'd be fit and well again or whether he'd be trapped in this nightmare world for the rest of his life. _Fine Doc. Do your worst._

Elle pushed the needle of a syringe containing a clear coloured liquid into the port at the side of the drip leading into Starsky's left arm. She depressed the plunger shooting the antidote into the plastic tubing and withdrew the needle. 'That's it. First shot done. Now we'll monitor him. I'll have the nurse do hourly obs on him but if you see anything in the meantime just press the nurse call huh?'

Hutch nodded briefly, his eyes on his friends body as though he expected it to leap up and dance round the room immediately. It seemed so odd that after the weeks of worry, the solution should come down to no more than a few mils of liquid in a plastic tube. As Elle walked out of the room, Hutch pulled up the chair to the side of the bed and sat down, depositing the bourbon bottle on the bedside table. His intention had been to drown out the worry and the tension of the past days but now that the antidote had been developed and delivered, he knew that was impossible. Instead, Hutch carefully unscrewed the top of the bottle and poured a small measure into his glass. Raising it towards the bed he toasted his friend.

'Here's to you Starsk. Elle's done the difficult stuff, now it's down to you partner.'

Starsky lay, as always, still and quiet, his body nothing more than a mannequin laid on the bed. Inside his head, however, the brunet's thoughts were travelling a mile a minute. He waited although he didn't know what for. Elle had said she'd injected the drug so what should he expect? Should he be able to move immediately? Experimentally he tried to wiggle his finger but nothing happened. He felt as heavy and useless as he had this past 17 days and a small glimmer of hope left him. What if it didn't work? What of he was trapped like this for ever? The waiting for the antidote had been like a long journey – he travelled hopefully always with the thought that something would happen for the best. Travelling hopefully though was sometimes better than getting to the end of the journey and right now Starsky felt deflated that he'd had the meds and nothing had happened.

The Starsky determination however, won out and the brunet's mind turned away from the dark thoughts. Hutch was there by his side and that's what mattered. It had always been the case that Starsky could endure so long as the blond was with him and so he turned his attention to Hutch, his nose wrinkling at the acrid smell of the hard liquor set against the sterile air conditioning.

_Hey buddy boy, you'd better save some of that for me, ya hear?_

Hutch leaned against the mattress, glass in hand and looked at the body on the bed. Without really realising it, he started to talk, his eyes misty and far away.

'How many times have we been down this road Starsk? Seems to me we should be payin' the hospital rent with all the business we've put their way.'

_We never asked for it Blondie, it's all the fans we have out on the streets._

'It all started with the veal piccada and the linguini with clams didn't it?'

_Uh uh. It all started with a filthy, sweat soaked blond in a back alley with needle marks in his arm, but we didn't have to go to Memorial then, did we? As I recall, we couldn't go to the hospital then partner otherwise you'd have been out of a job….and so would I.__ But you're right. The Italian restaurant was my idea and we should have stuck to scrambled eggs – even if I did want dinner rather than breakfast._

'God, you lost so much blood that night. I thought I was gonna lose ya Starsk, right there in that back room.'

_An' I thought you were either gonna put your back out or give yourself a hernia carryin' me buddy._

'I've never been a fan of red gingham table cloths since then an' I've never had veal since that night either. Kinda put me off my dinner huh? Come to think of it, I've never been fond of wrestling since that fight with the Omaha Tiger. I always used to think I was pretty good at wrestling.

_Uh huh. so did some of your girlfriends. According to Suzi your yoga comes in pretty handy!_

Old man Fargo, my wrestling coach in high school used to think I was pretty good. I even won a couple of medals with the team, but the Tiger was in a whole different league. I never asked Starsk. Did you win any medals at school?'

_I once got a merit badge in Miss Feingold's class for colouring in the lines. Does that count? We did our wrestlin' on the streets, not in a canvass ring._

'I guess it's somethin' I can ask when you wake up. You are gonna wake up Starsk, I know you are.'

_Givin' it my best shot buddy an' I think I feel sumthin happening. Not sure I like it. The pins and needles are back in my hands and feet but they're worse than ever now. __It's like fire ants crawlin' all over me Hutch. God I wish I could tell ya how much it hurts. Damn!_

'I wonder of Larry's kitten's grown up yet? Hey, I wonder if cats can follow sign language. That'd be neat huh? Signing kitties! It was a cute little thing, especially when it did that doodle down your front! It was the look on your face Starsk, one minute you were lovin' it up and the next you….Starsk? Are you ok buddy?' Hutch looked up as the blips on the monitor suddenly got louder and faster.

_Ok? Not the expression I'd use Blondie. It hurts like I've never hurt before. __It hurts everywhere. God, someone knock me out again. Jeez Hutch, is this what the antidote is all about? Talk to me buddy. Talk to me some more huh, so that I can concentrate on your voice and not on the pain._

Hutch reached for Starsky's hand. It was warm, warmer than it had been in a while and there were beads of perspiration forming on the brunet's brow. Hutch stood and took a clean cloth from the table. He folded it and gently wiped Starsky's forehead.

'Does it hurt buddy? Elle said it might but ya have to hang in there. It shows its doin' its stuff but it'll hurt like the devil.'

_Understatement Hutch. You were always the master of the understatement. It don't hurt…..it's hell. It's worse than hell…..Jeez Hutch it hurts. __For Gods sake do sumthin please?_

Knife like pains were now arcing through Starsky's neck and head. Blinding white flashes of light pierced the blackness and the brunet felt as though his eyes would pop clear out of his head. His joints were on fire, his neck a blazing pit of coals. The muscles in his legs cramped and if it hadn't been for the respirator hose in his throat, Starsky would have screamed out in pain. In his head, the brunet thrashed his body on the bed trying to escape the terrible agony and yet as Hutch watched, the only movement was the tip of Starsky's left index finger.

Carefully, the blond took the hand and grasped it. 'Starsk, this is the worst part. We'll get through this, I promise but right now you have to fight. It hurts, I know but it'll start to get better buddy, I promise and I'm right here. I'm not gonna leave ya.'

_Gonna hold ya….t'that……Blondie. Oh shit…..fuck…..damn. Talk to me. Talk about anythin', just take my mind off the demons settin' fire to my legs huh?_

Again the tip of the finger twitched and this time Hutch felt it more strongly. 'Did you do that Starsk? Did you make your finger move?'

_I dunno…..did I? Let me see? Um…..try this._

The blond stared hard at that single digit, willing it to work again. 'C'mon buddy, you can do this. Make it move again. C'mon Starsk, do it.'

In response, the index finger twitched once more, not a large movement, but significant in itself and Hutch let out a yelp of surprise. 'You're dddoin' it. You've ddddone it. I mean you moved it. You moved your finger. You can hear me!'

_I think there's a deaf mute three blocks away that didn't quite hear ya__ say that. Wanna try louder?_

Hutch poured another drink of the bourbon. 'Today a finger, tomorrow the world' he said quietly as he drank down the fiery liquid.

_Tomorrow make the pain stop huh? Or sooner if ya can buddy…..please…..now would be a good time._


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

For Starsky the rest of that night passed by him in a blaze of agony. Every muscle, every bone and sinew seemed to be on fire and his skin felt hot to the touch. Pains arced through his head and his fingertips and feet felt as though they'd been dipped in molten metal and despite the tube helping him to breathe, he felt as though he couldn't get enough oxygen into his body. Inwardly he groaned, trying to keep his attention focused on Hutch's voice.

In the past, when he'd been sick or injured, the blond was the one who'd seen him through. Hutch had a way of diverting the brunet's attention away from his hurts. His velvety smooth voice was soothing and ordinarily Starsky could drift away on a cushion of mid western vowels. This time though, even the flaxen haired cop's dulcet tones could do nothing to distract him from his ordeal and by the time dawn was breaking, Starsky felt like screaming for someone, somewhere to knock him out again and take away the pain.

Elle came in to check on Starsky frequently and seemed pleased with his progress. In the quiet conversations she had with Hutch, she told the blond that his partner seemed to be responding well to the antidote and despite the fact that he was spiking a fever of over 102, he was holding his own and it showed that the antidote should be working to reverse the paralysis.

'And exactly how do we test that?' Hutch asked quietly.

'Well you said he was beginning to twitch his finger.'

'Yeah' the blond replied guardedly.

'Let's take it from there.' Elle bent over the bed and pressed her fingers to the pulse in Starsky's neck. It was fast, but seemed strong. She carded her fingers through her patient's matted curls. They were damp with sweat and Starsky had an angry red flush across his cheeks. Carefully, Elle took the pause pads from the brunet's eyes where she'd placed them to protect them.

'Dave, I know you're not very comfortable right now….'

_Comfortable? That's an understatement Doc. Help me, gimme sumthin to take the pain away huh?_

'….but I think the drug is working. Hutch said you could move your finger. Can you do that for me now?'

_Can I? Finger huh? Today a finger tomorrow the world Hutch said. Ok finger…..move._

Elle watched closely and obediently Starsky's left index finger twitched. It was a small movement but it was still a movement nonetheless and had been done on command. 'That's great Dave, that's really good.'

_Uh huh? Terrific!_

'I want you to try something else now. You may not be able to do it, but I want you to try to open your eyes for me. Can you do that?'

_Well now that's the question Doc. Can I? Dunno, but I'll give it a go. Wish the pains would go though, I can't concentrate…..can't ignore it. Oh for fucks sake Davey quit feelin' sorry for yourself and start workin__' huh?_

Feeling as though he were trying to climb Mount Everest, Starsky concentrated on his eyes. His lids felt as though they were made of lead and it had been so long since he'd been able to move anything under his own steam that for a moment he almost forgot how to do it. Focusing all his attention on that one single movement, the brunet tried as hard as he could to lift his eyelids. At first nothing happened. At first, there was no movement at all and Starsky felt as though he were on a hiding to nothing. A wave of frustration and fear overwhelmed him. What if despite the antidote he would never be able to move again? What of he never got to see Hutch again…..or his Mom or even Nicky?

Galvanised by the fearful thought into trying even harder, Starsky steadied himself and with a titanic effort, he fixed all his powers onto his left eyelid. Nothing happened for a hundred years but finally, as he was about to give up, a thin sliver of light appeared beneath his thick black lashes. Spurred on by his success, Starsky tried once again and this time was rewarded by more light, this time from both eyes and a blaze of colour so bright it almost blinded him.

For a moment, Starsky couldn't understand what he was looking at. Robbed of his sight for almost three weeks, his brain took a while to start to process the images again but slowly they came into sharper focus and the two bright blue blobs that had hovered before his eyes coalesced into two sparkling orbs and Hutch's eyes smiled down at him.

'Well hey there partner' the blond said softly, his face cracking into a grin. 'Good to see you again. Welcome back to the world of the living.'

_Hutch, buddy….I can seeeee. __God that feels so good. Ok well what else can I do? Um… nuthin. Zip, zilch, nada…..fuck!_

'That's great Dave' Elle's face came into view. You're making real good progress here. I know you might think it's slow, but you're doing great.'

_Make the pain stop Doc._ Starsky put all his expression into his eyes and stared hard at the blond. He focused on Hutch's golden face for an eternity and slowly the blond's eyebrows V'd. Something in Starsky's eyes……something years of reading the expression in those indigo blue eyes made Hutch ask. 'Are you in pain buddy? Are ya hurtin'? Um….Can you move your finger if you are?'

Both Hutch and Elle watched as the left index finger twitched.

'On a scale of 1 to 10, where 10 is the worst pain, have you got pain less than five?' Elle asked. There was no movement, but Starsky's eyes rolled sideways, seeking out his partner.

'Is it up to 10?' Hutch asked. Starsky closed his eyes slowly, not wanting Hutch to see the hopelessness in them. The finger didn't move.

Quietly Hutch asked 'Is it worse than 10?'

The finger twitched almost emphatically and the blond swallowed, unable to comprehend what it would be like to be trapped in a pain ridden body with no escape route. He put his hand on Starsky's shoulder. 'Not long now buddy. As soon as she can Elle will give you somethin' for that.'

_Tell her to hurry the fuck up huh? Jeez I wish I could tell ya. I wish I could….never mind…..I'm just happy to be able to see ya, ya big blond Blintz._

Elle however seemed to want to push the envelope one stage further. She looked at the reading on the monitors and checked the drip feed flowing into Starsky's left arm. 'Dave, I think you're doing really well. I want to try something else, something bigger. I want to see if you can breathe on your own. I think you're strong enough and I think the drug is working fast enough. I promise if you can't do this, I'll reconnect the tube, but my guess is that you can do this.'

_Guess? I don't want you to guess Doc. Now is not a good time to guess. I really don't __think I can….oh Jeez, she's doin' it. She's reachin' for the hose. She's…..ok ok Davey. You can do this. Don't panic, just concentrate on takin' a breath huh? You opened your eyes for Gods sake, surely you can do a little thing like breathin' on your own. Ok ok don't panic. She's reaching for the switch, she's switched it off and…..oh my God, I can't….can't breathe…..can't do this I'm suffocatin'…..can't…..can't……for Gods sake breathe!_

Hutch and Elle watched the brunet for signs of life. Starsky's eyes were wide with fear. For what seemed like an age nothing happened and Elle's finger hovered over the switch to turn the respirator back on. As she moved again, Hutch held her back. Leaning over Starsky's body, he took the brunet's head in his hands and looked deep into the indigo eyes.

'You can do this Starsk, I know you can. It's not hard, you've just forgotten. Look at me and concentrate huh? I want you to concentrate on breathin' I know you can do it and so do you. C'mon buddy….Starsky. HEY, Starsky I told you to breathe goddammit!'

For a second Starsky's eyes fastened on Hutch's. The feeling of suffocation was almost too much to bear. He wanted sympathy and he wanted reassurance and yet Hutch was yelling at him to breathe and what Hutch wanted, Starsky would try to deliver. The sound of Hutch's usually calm voice raised in anger surprised the brunet so much that without really thinking about it he took a small but significant breath. The monitor registered the triumph and Elle smiled.

'Well done Dave, you're doing it. That's great! I want you to keep breathing on your own for a little while yet and if you can do that, I'll be able to take that tube out of your throat. Would you like that?'

_Almost as much as I want the Dodgers to win next season. I can do this Doc. Take the damned thing out now…..please?_

Starsky's thoughts went unheard though and as Elle checked one final time on the machine by the brunet's side, Hutch once again took a hold of Starsky's hand and sat back down on the chair by the bed. With his head still unable to move, Starsky could no longer see his partner and yet somehow, staring up at the ceiling and blinking and breathing on his own seemed so tremendous that his fear was for a while forgotten.

Hutch watched the steady rise and fall of the brunet's chest in satisfaction. It was such an enormous step for Starsky to take and the blond felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The cop felt confident now that Starsky would recover although he was left in no doubt that it would be a battle for his buddy to return to his former self.

Starsky however was now having doubts. Each breath was such an effort that he felt that if he stopped concentrating he would surely suffocate. Sweat trickled annoyingly down the sides of his face and dropped in smarting droplets into his eyes. Slow as they were to respond, he couldn't always blink them away in time and they added to his discomfort. The euphoria of regaining the power of sight and of taking that first breath was now waning fast. He was tired – dreadfully tired and yet so scared to sleep in case he would stop breathing or in case this was all another dream and he would wake up still paralysed and blind.

At his side, Hutch felt the tension in his friend's body and his empathy with his partner told him what the trouble was.

'It's ok Starsk, I'm still here with ya buddy. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise.'

_I'm scared Hutch. I wouldn't tell ya that, but I'm scared shitless. I thought it'd be better when the drug wore off but what if I stop breathin'? I have to think about every breath. I have to concentrate on it. I never realised breathin' was such an exhaustin' thing t'do. Help me?_

'You're gonna be ok, I promise. Elle wouldn't have left you alone if she thought you'd get into trouble. Try an' relax some Starsk, it'll make it easier then. It'll help if you don't think so hard about things.

_You try relaxin' Blondie! I've got a hose in my throat, a tube up where a tube don't belong an' I'm learnin' to breathe all over again. Could you relax? Huh?_

'Think about what we can do after all this is over huh? We should have a vacation maybe.'

_Only if I get to chose where we go. I don't trust your vacation ideas. Damp tents, mosquitos and warm beer is not my idea of a rest._

'We could go on a camping trip. I know a great camp ground right by a lake up in the hills. The sceneries wonderful and so long as we take some repellent the mosquitos aren't too bad.'

_See, I told ya! You have a one track mind Blondie. What's the matter with St Kitts and a week of sun sea and chicks?_

'But I guess you'd prefer some Caribbean island with all the comforts huh? Well, hurry up and get well Starsk. The choice is yours.'

Another hour passed during which for increasingly long periods Starsky forgot about thinking about breathing. By the time Elle came back into the room and threw back the curtains another hour later letting in the morning sunshine, Hutch had dosed off and Starsky was feeling more and more confident about blinking and getting enough oxygen into his lungs. The doctor smiled down at her patient, checked his pulse and oxygen sats and nodded.

'You know, I think we can dispense with the respirator now. Would you like to get rid of it Dave?'

_Is the Pope a Catholic Doc?_

Hutch woke up from his sleep to hear Elle's decision. As the doctor went away to get her stuff together, he leaned over the bed. 'Hear that Starsk? Not long now buddy. Not long till you can answer me back.'

The doctor and a Connie, the nurse came back into the room and Starsky blinked furiously. He'd had a respirator hose removed before and knew it was not the most pleasant experience. Still unable to move his body or limbs, the brunet felt helpless and just a little fearful that he would be unable to continue making progress but Elle was unstoppable. As Starsky's eyes followed her hands, she untied the gauze from around the hose and ran a damp cloth over the brunet's lips, freeing them from the plastic.

'Ok Dave. I can't pretend this wont hurt, but when I say, I want you to try to cough. I'll get this done as fast as possible and then you'll feel more comfortable.'

Starsky blinked his understanding and then closed his eyes. Somehow after all this time of hating the invader in his throat, he felt an attachment to it. It had kept him alive and had done the work for him. Now he was going to be on his own. Was he ready? Too late to argue, Elle grasped the tube.

'Cough' she commanded and as Starsky tried, she pulled the tube clear of his throat. It felt as though she'd taken most of the lining of his trachea with it and Starsky felt empty, his throat sore, raw and swollen. Slowly he tried to swallow, choked, coughed and panicked. Elle was back with him in a moment.

'It'll take a moment for your body to adjust Dave, just ride it out for a few minutes, ok?'

In answer, Starsky opened his tearing eyes and drew in a hoarse, rasping breath. He looked past the doctor to Hutch's concerned eyes.

'Fffffuuuuuuck…caaaammmmmmpinnnng' he rasped painfully.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

'Hutch there's a call for you. You can take it on the extension at the nurses' station.' Connie came into the room quietly and touched the blond on his shoulder.

'Who is it, did they say?' he whispered. Since Starsky had been freed from the restraints of the respirator, he'd spent much of the time asleep, the trials of the past hours having taken their toll.

'Sorry, no. I'll stay with him if you like?'

The blond smiled at the eager young nurse. 'That'd be good, thanks. He's been asleep for a while. If he wakes, tell him I'll be right back.' Hutch headed for the door and walked down the corridor. Sonia, the nurse in charge held out the phone for him and he took it. 'Hutchinson' he grunted, not in the mood for pleasantries.

'Kenneth? It's your father. There are some policemen here and they want to take me back to the police station. Tell them son. Tell them I've done nothing wrong.'

Hutch's heart plummeted into his boots. In the euphoria of having Starsky back with him, he'd almost forgotten about the man who had started the whole affair. He swallowed hard, emotions running in conflict through his body. Sure his Dad had helped to cure his partner, in fact Hutch was convinced that without Hutchinson senior, there might never have been an antidote to Imobilaton. Yet that same brilliant medical mind had been the one to put Starsky's life in danger in the first place and the blond was unable to forget that salient point. What to do? What to say? Hutch's mouth dried so that his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He wished his Dad would just disappear, if only for a day or so in order for him to get his thoughts together. That of course was impossible and so with a heavy heart, the blond made his decision.

'Dad you have to go with them' he said firmly. 'Mom and Karen will know where you are and they'll come see you.'

'But I don't understand. I've done what you asked. I've created the antidote and that young woman doctor tells me that Sta…..her patient is doing well.'

'Starsky. His name is Starsky. Jeez Dad, you can't even bring yourself to say his name, can you? Just go with the cops Dad. Go back to the Metro and I'll see what I can do.'

'Do? You can talk to them, that's what you can do. Tell them I've not done anything wrong. Tell them I helped and I should be allowed to go home.'

'I can't' Hutch said through gritted teeth.

'If you can't tell them, who can? Who can tell them that I shouldn't be treated like a criminal? Huh?'

'The only one who can do that is Dave Starsky. At the moment he can't talk, which is your fault. As soon as he can, I'll ask him whether he wants to press charges. In the mean time……'

'But Kenneth! I….Kenneth are you listening to me? Kenneth, I…..' Hutch put the phone down, cutting off his father in full flow. Tired as he was, the blond was unable to deal with the pleading and the recriminations. All he wanted to do was to get back to the brunet and stay by him to somehow make it up to him for his Dad having injured him so badly.

'Problems?' Sonia asked.

'And then some' Hutch muttered and headed back to Starsky, his footfalls heavy on the tiled floor.

The blond walked back into the quiet room and Connie got up from the chair. 'Still sleeping' she commented. 'He looks so young when he's asleep.'

Hutch grinned. 'Not you too!'

'What?'

'My God, he can even pull when he's unconscious. What is it with the guy?'

Connie lowered her eyelids and blushed. 'I was always a sucker for curly dark hair' she muttered as she rushed passed the flaxen haired cop and closed the door quietly behind her. With a grunt the blond sat down heavily on the chair and continued his vigil.

Starsky seemed to be resting more comfortably now that he had no respirator hampering his breathing. His chest rose and fell quietly and evenly and as he looked, Hutch could understand what the girls loved about his partner. Macho and muscled as he was, Starsky had an almost childlike quality to him when he slept. His face, still flushed with the last dregs of the fever was relaxed into a half smile, marred only by the dry, painfully cracked lips, the legacy of the breathing hose. Eyelashes that any movie star would die for fell in an ebony crescent to lie like smoky smudges on lightly tanned cheeks and the slightly untidy eyebrows perfectly outlined his closed eyes. Reaching up, Hutch brushed that one errant curl away from the damp brow and the touch woke his partner.

Indigo eyes fluttered open, closed and then opened again, hazy with temperature. They stared at the ceiling for a moment and then came to rest, focused finally on Hutch's face.

'Well good morning sleepy head' Hutch said softly. 'How's it going partner?'

Starsky closed his eyes. How did he feel? There was a vicious pain still arcing through his head from temple to temple and the pins and needles in his hands and feet had escalated from an inconvenience to downright painful. His limbs still felt heavy and dissociated from his body and yet his head felt clearer, his chest less constricted. Experimentally, the brunet tried to lick his lips but although he could manage to open his mouth a little, his tongue still refused to answer his commands. Once again the panic started to overwhelm him. Starsky tried to move his arms and then his legs but the limbs remained firmly fastened to the bed, anchored as securely as if he'd been chained there. His index finger still continued to twitch when he concentrated on it, but the rest of his body was still as useless as a side of beef.

Starsky closed his eyes in anger and fear. Somehow he'd convinced himself that when he woke up again he'd be ok, he'd be able to move, sit up, maybe even get out of bed. To be faced with this same paralysis seemed somehow even crueler after the elation of regaining his sight and breath. In frustration he tried to cry out a curse but the "FUCK" on the tip of his tongue translated only as a low guttural growl that lived and died in his throat. It was a harsh rasping sound that seemed more animal than human but to Hutch it was at once beautiful and also uncomfortable.

'Starsk, you ok buddy? Can you tell me if you're ok?'

The brunet blinked. _Ok Davey, time to try it again. It can't be that hard to talk, everyone spent a whole bunch of time tellin' ya to shut up! Think…..concentrate._ Carefully, Starsky focused his whole attention onto the muscles in his tongue. It felt as though he'd had several shots at the dentist prior to dental work. He had little or no control over it and yet he was not going to give up. Giving all his attention to that one small area, the brunet paused, working to form the single word.

'Huuuurttttttssssss' he managed to breathe. His voice sounded weaker than a kitten's and the word slurred as though he'd had a night on Huggy's roughest rum and yet Hutch's heart leapt. Communication! Even at its most rudimentary, it was still communication.

'Where?' he asked excitedly and was answered by a roll of red rimmed indigo eyes. Apologising silently for his error, Hutch tried again.

'Sorry buddy. Does your head hurt?'

'Esssss.' The answer was emphatic enough for Hutch to realise just how much. Whilst Starsky's voice was weak, the expression in those familiar eyes told the whole story. The brunet was in agony and Hutch couldn't help but swallow down the lump in his throat.

'Anywhere else?'

'Esssss.'

'All over?'

Too tired to answer again, Starsky blinked his eyes emphatically.

'God I'm sorry buddy. I'm so sorry for all this. For Dad, for his medical knowledge, for his hate. I'm just sorry.' Hutch hung his head looking every inch the defeated cop and Starsky wished again that he could move so that he could touch his buddy and comfort him. Try as he might though, the brunet couldn't force his useless limbs to move and in frustration he let out another cry which translated into a cross between a cough and a croak. Hutch looked up, hesitated and then rang the nurse call bell. A moment later Connie hurried back, took one look at the racing blip on the monitor and called for the doctor.

Elle bustled into the room and went straight to her patient. She checked pulse, blood pressure and that Starsky was still breathing well on his own. Her hand was cool against his overheated skin and her practiced hand could feel a slight shudder in the brunet's body.

'He let me know he was in pain Doc. Can you do anything for him yet? It's been hours and he's in agony' Hutch pleaded.

Elle nodded. 'He's managed to breathe on his own for over ten hours now. That's enough to prove to me he can manage. Pain killers can dull reactions, that's why we couldn't do anything for him before. Now we know, I'll get something written up for him right away. She leaned over the bed and looked into the deep indigo pools.

'Dave I'm gonna make you as comfortable as I can. I know you're hurting and I'm gonna take care of that. Tell me, can you feel any shaking in your body?'

Starsky thought for a moment. His insides did feel as though they were made of Jell-o although he'd thought it was because he'd been without solid food for so long.

'Esssss' he managed to force out. It seemed the only word he could say right now but it seemed to please Elle.

'I think the drug is starting to work on your voluntary muscles too Dave. It'll be a long process and I need to give you a second shot of the antidote, but I think you're winning the battle. Keep fighting huh?'

The brunet closed his eyes, tired and uncomfortable and wracked with pain. Fighting was too much for him right now. He'd fought the pains for days. He'd kept his hopes alive throughout his incarceration and now, laying on his comfortable bed with his partner by his side all he wanted to do was relax into Hutch's care and sleep. He felt a movement by his left arm and realised that the doctor had given him something else in his drip. Moments later, the pains started to dull and Starsky felt the familiar but slightly sickening feeling of morphine flowing through his body. Cushioned by its sleep evoking powers, he drifted away into a relaxed and comfortable sleep to wake five hours later in the middle of the night.

For a moment, he wondered where he was. The room was dimly lit by the lamp on the small dresser at the foot of the bed. It cast a warm comforting glow about the room and in the light, the brunet felt rather than saw Hutch's head resting on the bed by his side. Without thinking, the brunet moved his hand to rest it atop the flaxen bangs. The movement hurt his shoulder, elbow, wrist and fingers but it wasn't until he'd carded his fingers through the wheaten coloured hair that he realised he'd actually moved!

The feeling of movement on his head woke Hutch and he looked up blearily.

'Watcha doin'?' he asked thickly and scrubbed at his eyes with the backs of his hands. Suddenly realisation hit and the blond looked up more sharply.

'Starsk, did you move? Did you do that?' he asked excitedly.

In answer Starsky formed his left hand slowly into a thumbs up. It was shaky and uncoordinated, but it was still movement and both men stared at the fist as though it were some holy grail.

'Oh my God! You moved! You moved Starsk. Ya did it buddy, you moved your hand. How'd it feel? Did it hurt? I mean was it good? Did it….jeez I'm babblin'. I'm just so happy you can….Can you move anythin' else?'

The brunet himself was wondering the same thing. He'd moved his hand without even thinking about it and now he mentally explored his body. There was still no movement in his legs or feet. They still had the painful pins and needles feeling as though fire ants were crawling up his legs but his right hand also obeyed his commands, albeit slowly and with a sudden burst of optimism Starsky rolled his head on the pillow so that he could look sideways instead of at the ceiling.

'Yeaaaaahhhhh' the brunet said slowly, his tongue still feeling as though it were part of someone else's body.

'That's great, oh my god that's…..well it's great!' Hutch spluttered.

'Ssssure.'

'Do you want anythin'? Do you need any pain meds….a drink maybe? Do you want to move? I mean….shit this is fantastic.'

Starsky's eyes smiled at his friend's euphoria. He didn't share it. He felt heavy, as though he were trying to move underwater and even though he could make some sort of understandable noise, his voice sounded different – as though he'd drunk a bottle of bourbon all to himself. And yet the sight of Hutch over the moon and almost dancing around the room lifted his spirits a little and he tried to smile. Whether he achieved it or not was a moot point as at that moment Elle returned to the room for her hourly checks.

'Hey handsome' she said quietly as she checked her patient's pulse. 'How's things back in the land of the living?'

'He can talk….he can move his hand. He can…he.'

'Sssss'oooookaaaaaaay' Starsky managed to slur. 'Uuuurts.'

'Where does it hurt Dave?' Elle asked.

'Head…..aaaaarmmmmsssss…..allllll ovvvvvvvver.'

'Is it still as bad as before?'

'Worsssssse.'

The doctor nodded. 'It's only to be expected. Your limbs are coming back to life but that means you'll get all the associated joint pain. I'll give you something else to take care of that, but you're doing remarkably well.'

'Is he up to making a decision Doc?' Hutch asked softly. Elle looked up sharply.

'Depends what sort of decision.'

'A pretty important one.'

She shrugged. 'You can give it a try, but don't expect too much, he's still in a lot of pain and he's weak. You have a few minutes while I go write up his meds.'

As Elle closed the door. Starsky looked expectantly at his partner. Hutch looked uncomfortable and for the second time, the brunet wished he could ease his suffering. Hutch came to sit down again and stared at the sheet on the bed.

'Starsk I have to ask you. I know my Dad did wrong – very wrong. I arrested him, you know that and he was at the Metro till the docs here said he might be able to help. It was Dad that created the antidote but that don't make what he did right. He's back at the precinct now and I have to ask you. Are you gonna press charges? You have every right and I won't stop you.'

'What…..'bout…..youuuuuu.' Starsky's voice was thin, weak and rasping but the care he had for his partner was still very evident and brought a huge lump to Hutch's throat. He swallowed.

'Me? What about you buddy? He almost killed ya. He deserves to be punished. He deserves…..'

'Nnoooo.'

'What?'

Starsky rolled his head on the pillow, his eyes fixed on his partner and repeated his answer. 'Noooo…..caaaan't' he said with such finality that Hutch was lost for words.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

For the next two days Starsky remained on the critical list and Hutch remained at his side, only going home when the nurses or Elle chased him out of the brunet's room late at night. He was the first person to see his partner in the mornings and so persistent in his care was he that before long, Connie and Sonia gave Hutch small tasks to do to keep him occupied and to keep Starsky well. It was evident that when the flaxen haired man was around, Starsky relaxed and rested and so Hutch took over his buddy's personal care. Mucles long cramped started to respond to the massages Hutch gave and under the blond's strong hands, they started, little by little to answer to Starsky's commands. Hutch remained upbeat for the brunet, although in his heart he knew that recovery was going to be a long and hard slog. For his own part, Starsky's indomitable spirit would not allow him to wallow in self pity. He was only human though, and had times, usually late in the night, when he felt as though he would never be well again, but then he would hear Hutch's slow breaths or the occasional snore and knew he had to fight his way back to fitness not only for himself but also for his partner. They were a team - salt and pepper, Laurel and Hardy......Starsky and Hutch.

On the morning of the third day Hutch had just finished shaving the brunet and was wiping the shaving cream from his face when Dobey put in an appearance at the door. He stopped, watching as Hutch carefully soaped a cloth and started to wash Starsky's chest and arms. Hutch's care. The scene touched the Captain and brought a lump to his throat and with difficulty he swallowed it down. The black man coughed and the blond looked up quickly.

'Hey Starsk, you've got a visitor. Come on in Cap'n.'

Dobey walked into the room trying hard to keep his face from showing the shock at seeing Starsky's condition. The brunet had lost at least 10 pounds in weight and his cheeks were sunken and paler than normal. His chest displayed a set of ribs that wouldn't have looked out of place on an anatomy room skeleton and he lay unmoving on the bed. Only the indigo eyes showed any real signs of life and they followed the Captain as he pulled up a chair and sat down.

'How's it goin' there son?' he asked.

'He's doin' fine Cap'n. the Doc's real pleased and this afternoon we're gonna get him out of the bed for the first time.'

At that Starsky rolled his eyes and looked heavenwards. 'I'mmmmm doooooinnnnn craaaaap' he slurred and twitched his index finger as though to emphasise the point.

'You're doin' fine. Three days ago you couldn't even open your eyes on your own. At least now you can move your arms' Hutch insisted.

'Trrrriffffiiiiiic.'

Dobey watched the interplay. Starsky didn't seem depressed so much as angry and frustrated and Dobey had the distinct impression that he was allowing Hutch to look after him more for the blond's welfare than his own. He decided to press on with the reason he'd come for.

'Um…..Dave.'

'Shiiiiiit……callllled me Daaaaave 'gain.'

Hutch grinned and took the bowl of water away and then came to sit by the bedside as Dobey continued.

'Well, I have something to talk to you about. It concerns both of you. It's about Dr Hutchinson.'

Hutch looked away, unable to face Starsky. They'd talked several times over the past days about what would happen to the doctor. Hutch had almost pleaded with his buddy to press charges and to see Hutchsinson senior punished, but resolutely Starsky had refused. he had insufficient control or energy to explain his decision to HUtch, but his determination and resolve showed in his eyes and finally the blond had stopped pushing the point. It remained an uncomfortable thorn between them and was the root of Starsky's anger. He wanted Hutch to be ok. he wanted the blond to understand that Starsky didn't blame for the faults of his family and most of all he wanted Hutch to understand that he would never again trust himself to partner the flaxen haired cop if he'd stood in a witness box and given evidence against the Doctor. Hutch didn't understand. Maybe he would never understand. Maybe there would always be that small wedge between them but Starsky's mind was mande up. The brunet held Dobey's gaze unwaveringly.

'Tollllllld yaaa……donnnn't waannnnna pressss….'

Dobey held up his hand. 'I know, you made that clear and I also know Hutchinson has been trying to get you to change your mind. When he couldn't he telephoned me and asked me to intervene.'

Starsky turned his attention back to his partner and would have tutted if his mouth and tongue had permitted. Instead he scowled while Hutch blushed and rubbed his hand through his hair.

'Soooo?'

'So after what the doctor did to you, there is no way that the DA would allow him to walk scot free - even though you won't pursue a court case. However I've spoken with both the DA and the Judge who's been looking through the case notes and we have what we think is a solution. The Judge has indicated that Dr Hutchinson should submit himself to the La Casa Psychiatric facility for treatment for as long as the Administrator there feels necessary. He would, in effect be in custody, but he'd be well treated and cared for.'

The decision stunned the blond. He'd never even considered alternatives to having his Dad imprisoned and he'd never considered either that the Captain would go so far out of his way to help the two detectives. A warm wash of emotion ran through him but at the same time, Hutch understood that this wasn't his decision to make. Hutch looked at Starsky for his reaction and the brunet looked back, his indigo eyes unwavering and intense.

'What d'ya think partner?' Hutch asked quietly.

'Ssssoundsssss gooood.'

The blond's head was full of questions. 'And neither Starsky nor Dad would have to go to court?' he asked/

Dobey shook his head. 'No court hearing, just an order for incarceration until Dr Hutchinson is deemed fit to return to normal life. He will of course be struck off the register. He'll never be able to practice medicine again.'

There was a pause. 'How's Mum about all this?'

'She wants your Dad to get better and although she'd prefer him to be treated in Duluth, that's out of the question. This is the best the Judge could come up with.'

Hutch shrugged. 'If it's ok with Starsk, it's fine by me.'

Slowly Starsky formed his left hand into a clumsy thumbs up, too tired to talk further. The solution seemed elegant in its simplicity. Dr Hutchinson would be both punished and helped at the same time, Starsky would not need to give evidence against his buddy's Dad and Hutch would not have to hear the true horrors of what Starsky had lived through. It all fit seamlessly together. Slowly Starsky's eyes started to drift closed. Dobey watched as sleep started to overtake the exhausted man. Quietly he got up and patted the brunet's hand. 'Be better son. I'll pop by with some of Edith's cookin' when I get chance. And you….' Dobey looked at Hutch .'get some rest huh?'

The blond grinned and nodded. 'I sleep when he does.'

'Well you'd better catch up – he looks like he's out for the count' the black man said with a smile. Hutch looked down at his buddy who was now sound asleep, the visit having sapped his strength for the time being.'

'Maybe sitting up will have to wait till tomorrow' he said softly.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

**Four days later.**

'Don't get mad at me, I'm tryin' to help.'

Starsky scowled and took a firmer hold on the parallel bars with his hands. In the past three days he'd progressed fro sitting up in bed to sitting in a chair and now he was finally being allowed to get up and try to walk – if only Hutch would get out of his way.

'You're hinderin' not helpin' Blondie. I need to do this myself.'

'But you're tired….it's too soon.'

'I'm fine. I've been sat on my ass for days and before that I was on my back for weeks. How much more rest can a guy get?'

'But you're…..'

'HUTCH STOP IT.' The words were ground out with such vehemence that the blond took an involuntary step backwards. 'Sorry?'

Starsky however was unrepentant. In the past few days, Hutch had gone from being companion and nurse to being so overly attentive that he was almost smothering the brunet. The curly haired man knew why. Hutch felt somehow responsible for his Dad and thought he should make it up to Starsky in some fashion, but the harder the blond tried, the more he got on Starsky's already frayed nerves. He'd stuck it for so long because it seemed to be what Hutch needed to do, but enough was enough.

'I said stop it' Starsky said again in a quieter voice. 'I need space buddy. I need to do this on my own.'

'I know but you can hardly stand. It's too soon. You shouldn't push yourself too hard.'

'And you shouldn't need to be my nursemaid come slave come shadow.' Painfully Starsky adjusted his hold on the bars in the small physiotherapy room so that he could look at his partner.

'I'm not your slave!'

'Could've fooled me. In the past couple of days I've only needed to mention something and you're scurryin' away to get it. It has to stop Blondie or you're gonna be the one in the hospital, not me.'

Hutch looked away like a schoolboy caught with a cigarette behind the bike shed and his face coloured a deep red. 'I have to' he said softly.

'Why? Explain it to me buddy, coz I have to know. I don't want you tailin' around at the back of me like a fuckin' shadow. It unnerves me.'

The blond looked down with hurt eyes. 'You want me to go?'

'No! I don't want you to go, course I don't. But I want a friend not a nursemaid.'

'I was tryin' to help Starsk. I needed to help' Hutch said, his voice almost faded to nothing.

'I'll ask again. Why?'

'Because.'

'Uh uh, not specific enough.'

Hutch snapped his head up almost belligerently. 'You know why.'

In desperation Starsky leaned over the bars, resting his already tired and wobbling legs. He sighed. 'Maybe I do, but I want you to tell me so there's no confusion here. Tell me why you're actin' like this huh?'

'Because this is all my fuckin' fault' Hutch shouted, turning away in anger. Starsky managed to catch a hold of Hutch's arm and tugged. The blond resisted and then turned slowly.

'How'd ya figure that buddy?' Starsky asked gently. 'Did you kidnap me?'

Silence.

'Huh? Did ya?'

Hutch shook his head. 'No.'

'And was it you who tied me to that damned table and filled me full of some drug?'

'You know it wasn't.'

'So why is it your fault?' Starsky asked, longing to sit down but unwilling to until this subject had been well and truly aired.

'Because it was my Dad who did it to ya an' I can't forgive him for it.'

Starsky's legs were beginning to protest at standing up for so long, but he ignored the painful pins and needles and pressed on. 'My Dad died before I really got to know him. I was only 14 when he was shot. He may not have been the best Dad in the world, but I miss him like hell and I'd give anythin' to have him back. i miss him more every day buddy, but he's gone and I'll never have that chance again. Your Dad is your Dad Hutch. He might have some pretty odd ideas and sure, what he did to me wasn't the nicest thing in the world, but don't shut him out babe. He's your Dad – the only one you have. Some day you might come to understand him. Some day, he won't be there and you'll miss him. Don't waste the time you have with him huh?'

'But he almost killed you.' Hutch said incredulously.

'I don't think he ever intended to kill me and I'm right here aren't I? Hutch if I can forgive the man, surely you can.'

The blond shrugged. 'I dunno Starsk.'

'I don't want this to come between us buddy. Our friendship means too much to me for that. Please….make your peace with him. For me?'

'For you huh?' Hutch looked at his partner who answered with a grin. By now Starsky had slumped so far over the bar that he knew he'd never be able to get up again under his own steam.

'For me.'

'When you put it like that….'

The brunet nodded. 'I do. Now help me up huh?'

'I thought you said I hadn't to nursemaid you no more.'

Starsky grunted. 'There's nursemaidin' and there's stoppin' your partner's nose from getting' mashed on the floor. This is the latter. Help?'

Hutch grinned. 'When you put it like that…..'

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**Two months later.**

'It's too early Starsk. You shouldn't be pushin' it to get back to work. I can manage for another couple of weeks till you're fitter.' Hutch waved his fork in the air as though to emphasise the point. They were sat outside Joe's Beachcomber Diner on the beach by Bay Point, looking out over the pale white sand to the ocean and were enjoying fresh caught lobster.

'The doc said so long as I took it easy, I'd be fine. An' I've got you to watch my back' Starsky pointed out quickly.

'You could hardly run a mile yesterday. What if we get into a fight? What if….'

'We won't. I promise I'll be quiet. I won't pick any fights an' if I do, I'll stand behind you while you hit 'em for me.'

'Gee, thanks partner! But seriously Starsk, are you sure?'

Starsky laid his fork down by the side of his plate, took the napkin from his collar and wiped the corner of his mouth. 'You're doin' it again. I'm fine. I've put weight back on, I've been to the gym every day for three weeks and I can still out-sprint you.'

'And you still have crushing migraines and you lose feeling in your hands and feet' Hutch finished.

'Details, Blondie. I'm back at work as from Monday. I'll be fine.'

Hutch admitted defeat. 'Fine. Monday. Just make sure you do take it easy buddy. My nerves won't stand another escapade like this.'

Starsky grinned his trademark lopsided grin. 'Hey, when did you ever know me to go lookin' for trouble huh? Eat the lobster up, Nadia and Abby await and that's somethin' I can still do, even with dodgy hands and feet!'

-------fin--------

**Dedicated to the memory of Frank Abraham, 1925 - 2009. My Dad, my mentor, my friend.**

**--------------**

**My dear friends. A lot has happened while I've been writing this story and once again I need to take a little break to regroup but I will be back. I'm glad you've enjoyed reading, i have** **another story close to completion but is not the sort I can post on FFN. If you wish to read it, it will be published on Me and Thee under my other pen name - Indigo Blue (as the name suggests, the stories have more of an "adult" theme). Au revoir my friends - till we meet again.**


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